Chapter Text
If you asked Starscream, Primus must have turned his back on him some time around when they all crashed into the Earth. It was the only explanation for how truly insane and terrible things had been as of late. He was back to getting minimal recharge, and Skywarp seemed to haunt him all the more now. After what had happened when he was supposed to be guarding the tri-coloured seeker, he justifiably wanted nothing to do with his purple trine-mate. Not that he ever saw his teleporting trine-mate, but he wasn’t stupid and Skywarp was terrible at hiding his EM field.
But the worst thing out of all of the pit forsaken things that kept going on was how everyone was falling over themselves for Thundercracker after word got out about the virus. About how all of his mood changes made sense and the shorter temper and everything else. Of how nothing the blue seeker had done was truly his fault. Of course there was some mockery, they were Decepticons after all, but in total they were few in number. Even Skywarp was quick to defend and spend time with the larger blue seeker.
Starscream didn’t believe for even an astro-klik that some virus made Thundercracker do the things he did. He wasn’t even sure that he bought that there was a virus at all. Hook was a complete hack, not even a real medic! How were they supposed to trust and believe that someone who hadn’t even gone to medical school, knew what a human computer virus looked like? Or what it was do to a Cybertronian processor?
All of that and… Thundercracker never tried to apologize to him. He was actively avoiding him and frequently blocked his comm. calls but there were other ways of apologizing… And his trine-mate didn’t do any of them. So, no, Starscream didn’t for a moment believe that a virus was to blame for what the outlier had done. Sure, it was convenient and made for great gossip. Because that was the other thing. The Rainmakers hadn’t kept any of their traps shut about what Ion Storm and Thundercracker had gotten up to. Sure, they left a couple of things out, but on the whole he was now considered ‘easy’ and had been propositioned twice by the Coneheads, once by Astrotrain, not to mention all the grounders who had made passes at him since.
More than anything Starscream wanted to throw his rapist trine-mate into the brig. But to do that would call attention to what had been done to him. Megatron would want answers, answers that the Winglord didn’t want to relive in order to tell. The rumours would go from just the wild gossip that sometimes burned through the ranks and evolve into truth. It wasn’t something he could afford to do.
Just like despite his previous threats to Skywarp, the white seeker wasn’t able to follow through and actually dissolve their trine-bond. He stood to lose far too much if he actually did. And part of him, a tiny, buried and locked up part, could admit to being greedy. He didn’t want to give up his trine. Even after everything they had done to him… Coding, his spark… Everything inside of him said they were Trine. They were his to keep and the thought of letting them go? It was terrifying.
Exhaustion clung so deeply to his EM field and processor that it took Starscream a full breem to realize that his cortex had wandered totally away from the officers meeting that he was supposed to be focusing on. If it wasn’t what had been done to him, it was the ever present and inescapable feeling of being wrung out by his spark. Frankly he wasn’t even sure how he had made it through the last deca-cyle as he had rested even less than the cycles previously.
“Starscream!”
Megatron’s bellow broke through the fog that had fully invaded the white seeker’s processor and he jumped, servos and arms coming up to block his face. So used to the casual violence from their glorious leader that it was second-nature to try and protect himself. There was an cringe splashed across his faceplates and his turbines whined softly with restrained power.
“Quit your pathetic flinching and show me some results on your insipid little experiment! We have wasted far more energon on your ineptitude than I would allow any other. If there aren’t tangible results by the end of the orn, I will take the lost energon from your frame. Do we have an understanding?” Megatron snapped, fusion canon humming very slightly as excess power was shunted to it explicitly to back up his verbal barrage.
“Of course, my Lord. It will be done.” Starscream cut back with a sneer. As if he wasn’t trying! He certainly wasn’t a pharmacist and he made for a poor chemist on the fly. Of course it was his fault that no one on the rust bucket they called home could synthesize the additives the way the needed. Why wasn’t this Shockwave’s job?
“See that it is. I want the next raid to be put to proper use.” The Warlord turned his suspicious optics from his traitorous Second and went back to planning with Onslaught and Soundwave. There was something… off, about the seeker and while he wanted to blame it on some sort of petro-rabbit brained scheme that didn’t feel quite right. The seeker was usually far more fawning and subservient when he was scheming. He would have Soundwave look into it after the raid, this had gone on long enough.
The meeting dragged on as far as the Air Commander was concerned. He swanned off the moment he was able, already too much to do without the upcoming raid. He had seeker formations to plan and science to do, especially if the raid was successful. And if he was going to take a short, awful nap before he did either of those things then that was his business. He was also actively trying not to think about how much more exhausted he had felt lately. (Which given how bad he had felt before he hadn’t thought it was possible to feel more tired.) It was to the point that his spark was beginning to ache from the drain on his frame. At this rate he was going to have to see Hook about it and that was so far past last resort that he didn’t even want to contemplate it.
It was hard though. Resting meant he was alone and his stupid spark wanted his trine mates, despite what they had done. His frame and processor however, usually ended up going rigid with terror at the idea of being alone in their presence. It wasn’t exactly a workable situation. He could dissolve the trine (and really he should) but it went against everything inside of him to do so. Not to mention the rank and position he would lose from it.
Maybe he could find a bit more pep if he got some fuel. If nothing else the dredges of his ration would also give him a little more energon to work with. Megatron was being extremely judicial with how much he gave him, which only further complicated his experiments. Considering how much he just gave away to Shockwave was particularly chafing that he couldn’t be afforded more than what he could scrounge together.
Decision made, the seeker turned from going to his laboratory and instead went to the mess hall. It was busy, with many Decepticons were shirking their duties in preparation and excitement for the upcoming raid. Though when you factored in how little time most of them were able to get outside in their alt-modes, it became far less surprising.
Starscream pointedly didn’t look at the mechs assembled in the mess hall, wings high and chin tilted up even if his optics weren’t meeting any of the faceplates of those assembled. He had better things to do than to deal with the peasantry. That and if he looked in either of his trine-mates directions he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t panic and run. And as bad as hiding in his labs or office was, fleeing where the masses could see him was unacceptable. Especially considering everything that was being whispered between the grunts.
Skywarp was watching from against the far wall, staring openly at his trine-leader. He should probably leave. He knew that Starscream would want him to go. His coding rankled at that though, the idea of leaving his trine-leader alone and unprotected was unbearable for some reason. His coding had been worse than ever about it actually. Maybe it knew what a failure of a trine mate he was.
“How much?” Astrotrain had put an arm out to stop the purple seeker from leaving but also to bracket him in for a little privacy. He didn’t really care much who else heard him. Well, he cared if Starscream heard him. He didn’t want to get screamed at or stabbed, that one was also pretty likely.
“What?” Forced to focus on the triple-changer in front of him, the teleporter looked up at the massive mech with a scowl at being interrupted. This was cutting into his Starscream watching time!
“I said, how much? Thundercracker was whoring him out before, I want a spin.” Everyone knew the story, the Rainmakers had been quick to try and drag the Elite Trine through the mud after all. Not that it had ended well for them, openly challenging the ruling trine like that. And that slag story about Thundercracker having a human ‘computer’ virus? What a cop out. They honestly couldn’t come up with a better story to try and explain away what had happened? Yeah, the shuttle was calling bullslag on that.
For a long, long moment Skywarp’s processor worked through what was said to him, struggling and churning to find a reasonable alternative. Unable to come up with one he snarled and launched himself up at Astrotrain’s faceplates, intent on blinding him for his words. “How dare you?!”
Astrotrain let out a undignified yelp as his faceplates were suddenly filled with hissing and angry seeker. With all three of them present, retreat was definitely the better part of valor. He didn’t see what the problem was. Unless maybe Skywarp wasn’t getting a cut from the blue seeker? Who knew with seekers, the lot of them were crazed. As proven by the one attached to him trying very hard to claw out his optics.
Thundercracker watched dispassionately. He’d heard what the triple-changer had said; that more than anything made regret and shame curl around his spark. Maybe he should do or say something? If only so something like that didn’t happen again. That was unacceptable. As bad as what was happening to their trine was, it was trine business and not for the attention of others. Certainly not a train that pretended it was a shuttle sometimes.
Starscream hadn’t heard what was said but the unholy shriek that his purple trine-mate let out meant it was time to leave. He didn’t want to get caught up in whatever that was. Soundwave could and would take care of it. He had his ration and that was all he needed. The seeker power-walked himself out of the canteen, subspacing his ration as he did so.
Besides, unless Skywarp killed Astrotrain, nothing would really come of this. Not with a raid planned at the end of the joor. Worst case was that Hook had some scratches to fill in, or the other Constructicons would have to go remove the triple-changer from a wall or something.
Soundwave watched as Starscream very pointedly ignored what was going on and tipped his helm to the side. Curious. Previous instances said that the tri-coloured seeker should be all over such a slight and the opportunity to throw his veritable social weight around. This was going to require some investigating. Perhaps Megatron was right to be worried… After he dealt with this nonsense of course.
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Thundercracker cursed to himself as he banked hard, avoiding the strafing run that the Aerialbots made at him and Starscream. This was the closest he’d been to his trine-leader in the last deca-cycle for any extended period of time and he wanted so badly to say something to him but it never seemed to be the right time. Never mind the all consuming embarrassment he felt at having had a human virus. Patient confidentiality wasn’t exactly a thing amongst the Decepticons and he was sure even the Autobots knew by now for how much it was spread over the base. A virus wasn’t anything, it happened sometimes. Your firewalls got out of date or someone left something nasty on purpose… But a human computer virus? That was exposing yourself in stupid ways to end up like that. (Never mind that at no point did he even think for a klik that something like that could be possible.)
Their trine-bond was as atrophied as ever and it made anger and disgust well up in his spark. It shouldn’t be like that. The virus might have compromised his reasoning and abilities to make decisions but the original thoughts had been his. Thinking about his devolving logic centers he could almost compare it to being overcharged. He wouldn’t have gone as far as he did but it had all made so much sense at the time. Even now, there were parts of it he just… Didn’t feel bad about. Starscream should have been spending more time with them. He should have been interfacing with them and prioritizing them. It was why it was so easy to convince Skywarp that everything was okay when the purple seeker wasn’t compromised.
The fact that he actually acted out his thoughts? That was the virus and looking back he could see exactly where it had reached certain parts of his processor. He regretted a lot of what he had done towards the end. But he couldn’t regret all of it. Not when he was right about some of it. It wasn’t in his nature to be forgiving and it wasn’t in his nature to apologize for when he had gone too far. It left the blue seeker unsure of what he could even say to his trine-leader if he ever managed to catch him long enough to talk to him. The coward avoided him and refused his comms, there were probably ways he could get past that but he didn’t think he should have to.
Even his memory core had been altered by the virus. Before he’d ended up in the Medbay a lot of what he had been doing previously was corrupted. He only knew for certain that he had involved Ion Storm in his schemes because the Rainmakers had been very clear on what the beat down they had given him was about. It was the involvement of others that made his spark twist up in regret. Starscream had been too busy for his trine for a long time, it was unlikely he was actually interfacing with anyone outside of their trine. But… It had made sense at the time. That was his only defense and even he was aware it wasn’t exactly a good one.
Realistically, brooding and getting caught up thinking about everything during a fight wasn’t one of his most brilliant choices. But with the source of all of his helm-aches in front of him and actively ignoring anything that wasn’t combat related… He felt he was entitled to the distractions.
That of course didn’t stop things from happening around him. Like the aerialbots forming up into Superion and clapping their massive servo’s around his oblivious self. Thundercracker let out a shout of frustration, transforming to try and use his hands to pry at some of the thinner and more tender plating that made up the gestalt’s servos. The blue seeker didn’t dare use his outlier caged up as he was. He would be just as likely to inflict serious harm on his own frame from the concussive sounds rattling him. The same risk came from any weaponry, a ricochet could be deadly at this distance.
Blaster fire peppered along the digits that made up his prison bars and a bellowing cry of pain was followed up by the top servo lifting to swat deceptively fast at the tri-coloured seeker that had come to Thundercracker’s rescue. Guilt welled up in him as Starscream’s jet form was caught full bore by the back of Superion’s servo. It was a trine’s duty to take care of each other and step in exactly like his trine-leader had. Still, the Air Commander shouldn’t have had to was the problem. Thundercracker was part of the Elite Trine. He was supposed to be better than that.
“DECEPTICONS, WE HAVE SUCCEEDED! RETURN TO BASE WITH THE ENERGON!” Megatron’s famous bellow echoed across the battlefield and Thundercracker fought a scowl. Starscream had hit the ground and hadn’t gotten back up. While he wasn’t behind enemy lines, being seen going the wrong way after a retreat was called was a sure way to end up on restricted rations at best. If Skywarp hadn’t been injured in the initial point of contact…
The blue seeker banked hard, frustration and anger clear across his faceplates as he shot back against the de-combining Aerialbots. He was too far to cause any real damage but it made them scatter and that was what he wanted. Starscream didn’t rise from where he had fallen though and eventually Thundercracker caved to the orders. The guilt at his trine-leader being left behind and captured was easily pushed aside. Maybe some time with the Autobots would make the Winglord remember that what the blue seeker had done wasn’t that bad in comparison to what could be done to him.
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Starscream knew it was a bad sign to wake up not feeling any pain. The Decepticons didn’t believe in pain management for repairs and there was no way he wouldn’t be aching after the amount of work he would have needed after being swatted out of the air. Well, that and the hideous orange ceiling was a dead give away if he had somehow burnt out all of his sensor relays. Carefully he tried to shift, testing to see if maybe they hadn’t magnetized him to the berth just yet but as usual, luck was not on his side.
“Even if I didn’t see that, the monitors were giving you away long before you actually onlined your optics.” Ratchet called from somewhere near by. He wiped off his servos and pushed the rolling stool towards the berth ridden seeker with a pede. “We’re going to have a talk you and I, though I suspect I already know the answer to most of my questions.”
“You know I’m not going to tell you anything, no matter what you do to me.” The sensors in his wings made use of the air currents made by the medic moving around, letting the white seeker know that they were in one of the Medbay’s few quarantine rooms. They were small, private and invoked a level of nervousness in him that Starscream would never admit to. Privacy like this as an enemy prisoner was never good. While the Prime would never condone torture and ‘alternative’ information gathering, what he didn’t know didn’t hurt those pretty fake morals of his.
The medic snorted at that. “I’m sure you will since this isn’t war related but sure, if it makes you feel better to say that, we can do that.” Ratchet sat on the stool and reached over to press the berth controls, easing the seeker so that he was lightly inclined. He was still magnetized to the berth and very much not getting free without any assistance, but it made it feel a little less like an interrogation in his mind.
Starscream sneered at him as he was forcefully raised up. It felt strange, being offered a level of respect that he would never have gotten from his own faction. “You might be able to repair whatever you do, but I won’t break.”
Ratchet sighed and felt the entire weight of the war at that statement. He didn’t even disbelieve the seeker. He knew what happened out away from the front lines and in the dark little hideaways on both sides. “Look, this isn’t an attempt to gather intel. This is me, reaching out as a medic, not as an Autobot. Hook is the only real medic you lot have here, and I know he isn’t qualified to handle this.”
The medic’s words put the white seeker on edge and his sneer widened to cover up the worry. He didn’t for a moment believe the medic was beyond lying to try and gain whatever valuable intel he could retrieve. That both sides honoured the war time pacts against medical hacking was a slag shoot but it was generally upheld this close to command. But generally didn’t mean always. “Get on with it then, instead of telling me how much you aren’t trying to trick me or hack me.”
“You’re sparked.” Ratchet went with blunt over gentle, it was his go to for bedside manner. He found it got him more respect and a better over all trust with all of his patients if they didn’t think he was going to try and soften the blow. And this was really something that there was no softening.
Starscream laughed, unable to stop himself. “You need a better lie! I can’t get sparked.” His lip-plates pulled back into a snarl at the audacity of the medic. To lie about something so precious was heinous. If he could get sparked, he would have been heavy long ago and definitely not now when they were struggling to stay fueled and under monumental stress from being shoved in the rusting tin can that was the Nemesis.
“Well considering you didn’t have a baffle or charge sink, that’s definitely not true. I would hope at your age you would understand how that all works, but I can give you ‘the talk’ if need be.” Ratchet raised an optic ridge at the vehement protest. He had expected some level of denial given that he was an Autotbot and had supplies on hand to prove his words but the level of vehemence was a bit much.
The seeker tried to jerk his arm up so he could lash out at the medic with his talons. How DARE he mock him! “Don’t you dare! You think I don’t know what my spark looks like?! You think I’ve never tried before?!” His voice was quickly rising with pitch and volume until he was shrieking at the red and white Autobot for being so cruel. “I CAN’T!”
Ratchet ended up leaning back a bit at the volume that the bound seeker was able to project at, dialing back his audial receptors just a bit so he wouldn’t get anything blown out by the verbal assault. “Well seeing as I don’t have your entire medical history, no, I don’t know. What I do know is that I didn’t pick it up with a scanner, I saw it with my own optics when I had to solder binder onto your cracked spark chamber.”
The ground had fallen out from beneath Starscream. There was no way that he was sparked. It just wasn’t possible. “Y-you’re lying.” It had to be a lie. Because if it wasn’t… if it wasn’t, then he had been sparked up when one of his trine-mates had assaulted him. And it had to be his trine because the other option was so much worse that he wasn’t even going to think about it. Look at him not thinking about it.
The medic slumped a little, looking older than he actually was. (And given his age, that was impressive.) “Look, I know you have a lot of reasons to disbelieve me, and if I was in your place, I probably wouldn’t believe an enemy medic either. I have scans, but I know those can be faked. I brought a mirror in with me, so you can see for yourself.”
“You just want me to make myself vulnerable so you’ll have an excuse to kill me!” It was so much easier to scream than it was to even contemplate that the medic wasn’t lying. It was safer to play the rolls that they both had and just leave it at that.
“Primus.” Ratchet muttered as a curse before he spoke up, over the ranting seeker. “If I wanted you dead, all I would have had to do was close your chest up after I found that crack. Between that and the carry it would have killed you before the end of the orn. You don’t have to believe me and you don’t have to look, but this is probably going to be your only chance of getting proper medical attention for it short of Megatron negotiating for it. And we both know how like THAT is to happen.”
Unfortunately the medic was correct. His HUD confirmed the Autobot’s story about his spark chamber, though there was no alerts in regards to being sparked… But the timeline would match up for it not registering yet. They wouldn’t be large enough to compromise his own readings nor would construction have begun yet. “If… If…” He couldn’t get it out and had to forcefully in-vent through his intake. “If I open my chest plates and there’s nothing there, I will drop you from the stratosphere and watch you burn up on entry and then make sure you’re still alive to hit the ground at full velocity.”
“My word as a medic,” Ratchet said solemnly. There was a lot of slag that happened between both sides, but this wasn’t something he would lie about. He brought the mirror attachment up from the berth and angled it towards where he knew the seeker’s spark chamber lay behind it’s many layers of protections.
The faint sounds of a micro-transformation filled the small room before red chest plates parted and slid to the side, cockpit opening forward to allow the movements. Golden spark-light flickered rhythmically, as if something smaller was passing in front if it in rotation. Starscream’s fans stalled out as the medic shifted the mirror and he was suddenly able to see his own, terrible spark.
And the tiny little blue light that orbited it.
Starscream’s mouth worked open and closed several times, no words escaping as tears pooled at the corner of his optics and then fell down his face-plates rapidly. “I-It’s. It’s, there’s a new-spark.” He couldn’t stop the sob. It was everything he had ever wanted when he had first courted his trine. There was only one, and as he watched it zip around his slower rotating spark he could see two blackened scorch marks fouling his strange, gold coloured spark. It was a bad omen to only have one, never mind the circumstances of it’s creation.
“Yeah,” Ratchet confirmed gently, watching the other carefully. If Starscream had spoken the truth that he had believed himself to be infertile to the point that he didn’t bother with protection… Then it was a double miracle that the little life had made it this far. “I sorry to bear bad news, and I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely that when you were injured during today’s skirmish that caused the other two to destabilize and burnout like that against your spark. The injuries will heal with time and it shouldn’t cause any problems for the one that survived.”
“There was three?” The Winglord hadn’t thought the situation could possibly get worse, but here Primus was, making his life that much harder. Was only one surviving worse than only sparking a single? It was a stupid superstition but he could feel dark thoughts hovering in the back of his cortex about all of this.
The medic hadn’t thought that Starscream could sound more wrecked than he normally did but he was being proven wrong for the worst possible reasons today. This was never the sort of talk Ratchet wanted to have, especially to someone in the seeker’s position. They were at war, never mind the toxic nature of the Decepticons in general and everything else wrong with their race. “There was, I’m sorry.”
If he couldn’t hear just how drippingly sincere the Autobot was, the seeker was sure he would have become a little unhinged. As it was he felt like he was caught between two magnets emotionally. He’d been sparked with three and now there was only one… But he couldn’t imagine a future where he carried the last one happily. And yet at the same time, he wanted. Oh how he wanted. “You’re not going to snuff it now that you’ve told me, are you?”
Ratchet reared back as if he had been struck and a dark look crossed over his expressive faceplates. It was hard not to snap back, the accusatory tone in the other’s vocals had him itching for a fight. But… But. He was all too aware the types of horrors that were inflicted upon the ‘Undesirables’, forced terminations and sterilizations were some of the tamer things that he was aware of.
“No. Not unless that’s what you want. It is an option, and it’s not one you have to make right now. Judging by the size you have about a quartex before it becomes too risky. There is of course other options. I can give you a coding patch and manually disengage your forge so that once the new-spark has matured we can remove it and put it into an incubator until a full frame can be built. Given the state of the Decepticons, that would be my recommendation as a medic. And of course you can just let everything take it’s course. I can give you a few supplement packets that I have made up, I’ll only be able to give you a dozen or so as that’s all I have on hand. But if Skyfire isn’t lying about your skill sets then you should be able to duplicate it easily enough.”
The outraged sneer on dark faceplates was completely ruined by the way coolant dripped down his cheeks. “You shouldn’t talk of things you don’t understand!”
The medic threw his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying!”
“Say less!” Starscream snipped at him, parts of his armor and plating ruffling while the rest was magnetized to the berth and unable to shift due to the strength of the magnets holding him in place.
“Like I said, you have time to make your decisions. I have old files on carrying if you need as well.” Ratchet tried to peace keep, despite everything in him railing to fight with the seeker. He’d always had problems with his berthside manner and being challenged by the uppity seeker wasn’t helping him.
“You sound so sure that I’m not going to terminate.” Starscream couldn’t keep the tremor out of his vocalizer no matter how he tried. He couldn’t stop staring at the mirror and the tiny blue light that was reflected back to him.
“I don’t know you well enough to even guess at what you plan on doing.” Ratchet scoffed, grabbing the blank and scrubbed data pad that he had prepped in advance for this. “But, given your words about thinking you were infertile… Most people in your circumstances don’t turn away when they have chances like yours. So either you’re going to want the coding patch, or you’re going to go the difficult route and do a full carry.”
“I will think about it.” The seeker would. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do. How did he give up what could be his only chance? How did he move forward after what his trine had done to him? And the absolute worst thought, what if it wasn’t his trine’s?
“Make sure that you do.” The medic transferred over all that he had, which admittedly wasn’t as much as there used to be back before their entire civilization had collapsed under the strain of the war. “There isn’t any physical reason I can see from your scan that would mean you would be unable to carry to term. Of course I would say do your best to stay out of the line of fire but…”
“If you Autobots would just stay in your awful little base, there wouldn’t be any risk.” Starscream wasn’t able to stop himself from snipping at the Autobot who seemed to be just trying to bait him.
“Right, because if we did that your lot would just leave the humans alone.” Ratchet snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, giving the Decepticon a flat and disbelieving look.
“They started it!” The seeker knew he was getting a little shrill but if those awful creatures would just let them take what they needed, none of this would be happening the way it was.
“They did n-, no, I am not getting in an argument with you about this.” The huffed sigh that escaped the medic was fed up and weary. “Look, you’re in the medbay for half an orn at least until the soldering has been properly integrated into your spark chamber and then it’ll be the brig after that until Megatron calls. You have until that happens if you end up going with the second option, other wise once forging starts it is incredibly hard to get the coding to stop.”
“Tch.” Starscream did his best to look away from the mirror and closed up his chest plates, hiding the little light away where it would hopefully be safe.
“I don’t care which you choose, I’m just making sure that you understand. That’s the extent of my duties as a medic.” The medic threw his hands up in the air in defeat. Damn Decepticons, it was always the same nonsense with them. They had to have their little fits to make sure you knew how not scared and totally fine they all were when they very clearly weren’t.
“You can leave, I’m done talking to an enemy medic.” Starscream sniffed, dismissing the medic from his presence as if he was the one in complete control of the situation and not trapped and immobilized by his enemies and at their complete and total mercy.
Ratchet huffed at him but placed the datapad on the immobile seeker’s lap and stood, pushing the stool he had used back into it’s place with his pede. He wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to be as far from the prickly seeker as possible. He had done his part, more than if you asked most Autobots, so that would have to be enough. He would have to come back and make sure that everything was intergrading correctly, especially since his bet was that the tri-coloured seeker was going to opt for a full and total carry.
Finally left alone, Starscream powered off his optics and let his frame relax into the med-berth as much as the heavy duty magnets would allow him. He felt drained. Not just physically from the repairs, and apparent new-spark he was carrying, but emotionally and mentally.
It was a full orn before Megatron finally deigned to trade for the seeker. Part of Starscream knew that was because it took at least half that time for the Warlord and the TIC to change all of the vital information in their servers and databanks on the off chance that he cracked under interrogation or was hacked. While Skywarp could have rescued him at any time, there were standing orders for the outlier not to do that as every time his warping capabilities were used that close to the Autobot’s base, there was a chance that they were scanning the events and would eventually come up with a counter to it.
In the end, Starscream had subspaced the data pad and made his choice. The medic honoured it which was honestly a surprise in and of itself. The seeker hadn’t really expected the Autobot to follow through on his word. So many of them just spoke pretty lies that they used to convince themselves that they were superior. The seeker knew who the true monsters were though, and it wasn’t the Decepticons.
Megatron was seething when he was returned, but short of leaving his SIC with the Autobots, it had to be done eventually. And the longer he left him there, the greater the risk that Starscream would either crack or intentionally do something to sabotage him. He would give the Autobots credit, the seeker was at least repaired. That was something he never bothered with when he was returning his own captured hostages.
Neither said anything to the other as they and the small contingent of soldiers returned to their sunken base. It was better that way and they quickly separated. If they stayed in each others presence, one of them would snap. And Megatron wasn’t so foolish as to throw away the free medical attention on the seeker just because he was furious with him. Medical supplies weren’t free. If they were, the ex-miner probably would be tempted to really throttle the seeker and show him his place. As it was when he did snap, he stuck to a minor, relatively easy repairs.
The moment he was out of sight of their oh so glorious leader, Starscream was bolting for his lab. He moved quickly enough that no one dared stop him and the look on his faceplates promised pain to anyone who thought to try. The moment he was in the safety of his lab he went straight to the work table, pulling out the data pad and the supplements. Ratchet had recommended he take one once he was back with Decepticons, so OBVIOUSLY that was a trap and he would be opening one to analyze it.
Besides, if the medic was to be believed, he wouldn’t need the supplements for a quartex or so. Just that, that was all the time he had. At that point, frame construction would begin and there would be no hiding the state of his frame from most of the mechs aboard the Nemesis. He would ideally get the supplements and find someone to help donate material. That second one wasn’t going to happen. His frame would just have to make due with the supplements and what his own transfluid could provide for materials.
Hopefully by then he would know what he would be telling his trine-mates. Starscream was all too aware that they would want to be involved. If he was lucky it was Skywarp’s. If he wasn’t… Well, there were two options and they were both equally bad for differing reasons. He might never know which of the three had sparked him and a loud part of his cortex screamed that he didn’t want to know.
He grabbed multiple dishes and opened one of the packets to distribute some into one, then a slide and finally a small vial. This would keep him busy for a while, and hopefully it would be real enough. If it wasn’t… well, he was sure he could figure out something terrible to befall the Autobot’s CMO. And if it was, then maybe it would have the answers as to why he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong about getting the regular supplements into the energon.
Starscream went through the motions, putting a sample into the analyzer while he looked at the mineral powder under a microscope. It didn’t look any different than some of the powders he had mixed up himself. There seemed to be a lot of heavy metals in this though, and something he didn’t recognize. Frowning, he sat up and waited very impatiently for the analyzer to do it’s job. He itched to online the data pad but it wasn’t going to have anything on it that couldn’t wait an orn or two while he tried to sort this out.
Given the threat Megatron had leveled at him before that disastrous raid, the Air Commander didn’t want to risk being so much as back handed by their glorious leader. Not in his condition anyway. He would be pushing this as much as he could, not just to avoid the Warlord, but his trine as well. He felt so raw and unstable he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it from them if they tried to get into his space. And who even knew how they would take the information anyway? What if they found out and didn’t want it? (What if they found out and wanted it and didn’t care what he wanted? Not that they cared about what he wanted anyway.)
No, it was far better to work at the problem in front of him and not delegate any processing power to what was happening inside of his frame. This was a solvable problem, unlike the one growing off of his spark. He’d made his decision and now there was no turning back.
He puttered around his lab, keying open different data pads to see if there was any chemical notes that he had missed somewhere. Nothing obvious popped up and the joor dragged on before the analyzer let out a long tone that had his wings perking. He pulled the print out off, optics devouring the glyphs hungry for what surely had all of the answers.
“Bismuth, tungsten, tin…” The seeker muttered as he read along the print out. “Aspartic acid? Why would you – it’s the binding agent. Of course! No wonder Mixmaster turned his samples into purified acid, between the higher copper content and other minerals…” Possessed by science, Starscream started pulling out more samples, wings flittering with excitement. With the ratio from the analysis he would be able to check with different acids and mineral combinations.
Joors passed in his curiosity driven experiments. Not only would he be able to make himself the necessary supplements for his carriage, he would be able to finalize this enough to forward it to the Constructicons so that they could get to making it for the rest of the army. Between the many raids and the strain of being in such a high sodium chloride and humid environment it was playing havoc on all of their repair systems. Never mind the subpar supplies available to them on Earth.
Starscream stretched with a pleased hum, feeling accomplished and smug. He had gotten the answers that none of them had been able to figure out, and he had gotten it from their enemy no less. It was a two-fold strike. Not only would this keep Megatron off his aft, this would strengthen the Decepticon army for the next time they faced the Autobots in battle.
Of course thinking of the Autobots and his time with them tanked his science high very quickly. The gifted data pad sat at the table, mocking him. He hadn’t quite forgotten about it, but it he certainly hadn’t focused on it. The seeker wasn’t able to stop himself from gently touching the top of his cockpit where his spark lay hidden. Joy, terror and immeasurable sadness swirled together in his spark. The new-spark was too young to be a noticeable drain on his systems, and if he remembered correctly, it would be roughly a quartex before he was able to sense it’s little proto-field.
Hesitantly he picked up the pad and turned it on. It had been so long since he had read up on anything remotely related to carrying… No doubt this would be full of grounder knowledge but there were somethings that were universal, no matter the frame type.
The Complete and Total Carrying and New Spark Guide
Notation: This guide was corrupted and as much was saved as possible but things ARE missing. Particularly the section on possible risks to the carrier. If anything feels off make sure you reach out to myself or Hoist. – Ratchet
Starscream frowned at that. Great. Well, the Nemesis might have something in it’s medical databanks, and worst case he could connect to Shockwave’s no doubt more robust horde of data on their next call to Cybertron. Normally he would just push to travel there… But the idea of either having to bring his trine with him or risk confronting the Rainmakers on his own… No, neither of those options were good. He would have to make sure he got what he could unnoticed.
Besides, what could he possibly miss?
He wiggled himself into his modified cot to let his frame rest a bit and tucked up so that he could begin reading the guide. It had plenty of things he knew about, the general risks of carrying, the ones that increased without supplements and ‘donations’. He wasn’t able to stop himself from snorting at that. It had been very graphic as it described what happened during emergence, but talking about interface? This was definitely something that had been put out and ‘Senate’ approved.
Still, it was currently all he had. There was a large part that was corrupted and illegible that had started with some of the more common ailments. Things like increased risk of nausea, when to see a medic or doctor if it was persistent or excessive. A slightly pixelated chart to check off what excessive was, which was nice. (Any purging more than once an orn during construction.) Detailed lists on different mineral mixes to buy and what to look for in the supplement mixes during different stages. There was a lot, despite the corrupted spots.
Reading didn’t really make it feel more or less real, and the image capture he had snuck off of the mirror would be reviewed over and over when he had the time. But having this made it feel… Possible, in a way that soothed his spark and processor ever so slightly. He could do this. He didn’t need his trine, he didn’t need anyone. Sure, going off of this there was a risk of some internal structural loss but he could stay on top of the mineral requirements better than some idiot civilian could. And the loss of his own transfluid wasn’t that big of a deal. A dry overload was still an overload.
Not that he was thinking of interface at all. Even the idea of self-servicing made his audials ring and that nice and terrible floaty feeling came back. Sometimes he wanted to just sink into that feeling and float away, where no one could touch him and he didn’t have to think or worry about anything at all. So he mostly just, didn’t think about it. He had too much work to do to really think about it anyway. It was fine. Everything was and would be fine. He read more so he could stop thinking about it. It was extra fine.
At some point he must have drifted off as he was startled awake by his internal alarm going off. Groaning, Starscream let himself whimper softly as his frame spasmed from the awful cot and the poor position he had somehow recharged in. Moving carefully he did his best to stretch it off and subspaced the data pad. Bridge duty was often a test of his very limited patience and the knowledge he carried with him wasn’t going to improve his mood any.
He forwent his ration and beelined it for the bridge deck. Anything he could gather on carrying would be a boon and it was… Well, given what it was a result of, not a pleasant distraction but it was a distraction none the less. It gave him even more excuses to keep away from his trine. He would take what he could get at this point. Constantly it felt like Skywarp was watching him, as if to counterbalance the way that Thundercracker was avoiding him.
As he walked he finally got to composing the message to Megatron that his brilliant scientific skills had cracked the code for the supplements. Sending that off, the SIC was quick to write up a second message to Scrapper, cc’ing Hook and Mixmaster as well on the requirements and that he would update them on differing acid solutions that could be used, if any from the few he listed. Hopefully they could begin synthesizing them all quickly enough that the Warlord wouldn’t have anything to complain or rage about. Not that the ex-miner really needed an excuse to throw a fit.
As he entered the bridge deck he sneered at Soundwave, already at his station even though their shift wasn’t supposed to begin for another half a joor. Pathetic. The Host mech was such a cog-sucker, forever going above and beyond and simpering for Megatron. It disgusted him and he was quick to turn away from the dark blue mech.
Soundwave didn’t look up as the seeker made his entrance but he made quick note of it. It was odd for the seeker to be early, never mind this early. The tape deck had enough work that using the larger computing power of the Nemesis made sense. The Air Commander however typically didn’t need such things for his own, so what was he up to now? No doubt some new scheme to try and overthrow their glorious leader. It had been quite some time since the last attempt. It almost felt normal to start mentally preparing for whatever fresh nonsense the SIC would plan up.
Starscream had sat himself at the smaller console instead of the larger, more prominent one. This would allow him the illusion of privacy but mostly it was tucked into a corner with excellent sight lines that would let him see if anyone dared approach him. He had so much to look for, never mind that he couldn’t slack on his own duties without calling attention from Megatron.
Soundwave called up the console that the SIC was at, remotely hacking it so he could see what sort of scheme that Starscream was setting up this time. It always paid to stay on top of his nonsense. Primus forbid the seeker actually manage to get the drop on Megatron during one of his many attempts at a coupe.
There were certain things he was expecting to find. Plans for constructing a new kind of bomb, looking up different poisons or old laws that he might be able to twist to his advantage. All classics that the seeker would sort of cycle through if he couldn’t come up with a new idea. Except that wasn’t what was on the console. Nothing could have prepared the tape deck for what he found and he nearly stalled over it.
Data packet after data packet, all about the same thing. All about carrying, about changes to the carrier’s frame, about different superstitions and all sorts of other things.
For a long breem Soundwave was almost certain that he had obtained a virus somehow. Or had fried something important and was hallucinating.
Then he started to process about it deeper and longer. It actually explained so much if Starscream was carrying. His worsening moods. The ongoing exhaustion. The over reaction to possibly being struck when normally the seeker was so quick to mouth off to Megatron.
Carrying was dangerous without ration restrictions. He was all too aware, having carried the twins when his spark had fissioned to create two new cassettes. And new symbiote frames were far easier to forge, material and size wise, compared to the support a proper new spark needed. Reading along with Starscream it was becoming clear that the seeker very much intended to try and go it alone.
That was unacceptable. The seeker’s entire frame would be compromised. At best it would take almost a vorn for him to recover. That was of course assuming that the seeker did recover from the material loss and metal fatigue. Some frames never recovered what was lost, no matter what supplements they took in. Brittle armor and thinned struts would mean that their SIC would be useless on the battlefield. Which given what he knew of cultural norms of seekers… There would be no way that Starscream would be able to hold his titles of Air Commander or Winglord. Their entire air force would be in complete chaos.
Unacceptable and totally avoidable. It would seem that Soundwave was going to have to either convince the Air Commander into pursing his trine (and given the rumours going around about that…) or convince him that he was the only suitable alternative.
There was a lot to plan and process, and Soundwave took full advantage of having all of his cassette’s deployed to gather all of the information he needed to present his case to the Air Commander. It was funny to him, how little people suspected his symbiotes of being capable of holding onto secrets and being quiet because of how abrasive and loud they acted when they weren’t working on a particular task.
It took a full deca-cycle and two shift rotations for everything he wanted to be gathered up together. He had stolen and copied over the datapad on carrying that the seeker often carted around with him, as well as compiling everything that was accessible not only from the Nemesis but from Cybertron as well. It might have looked suspicious for Starscream to request such, but anyone who might think to question the spy-master would just wrongly assume he was preparing to fission for a new cassette.
This also gave him more time to follow the Air Commander and have him stalked by Ravage. Poor fueling habits, lack of recharge and so many other things were all risk factors to whether or not the seeker’s frame would recover from this. And with all of the information gathered, it was clear to see that there was no way the seeker was going to be able to safely carry unassisted. Worse yet, the Decepticons legitimately could not afford to lose their SIC, not just on the battlefield but in general. Starscream simply was too good at his post as SIC.
The tape deck waited until after shift before he sent off his request for a meeting with the Air Commander. Normally he would never allow the seeker into his quarters, never mind invite him over. But if he was going to do this, he was going to make sure it was somewhere there was a berth available. He was quite certain that having such a simple amenity handy would improve the odds. The Decepticons couldn’t afford to have Starscream compromise himself by letting his carriage progress without any assistance.
While he was very good at waiting and presenting a front of being a fount of patience, he was quite impatient, and turbulent over this particularly. It was all kept internally but the cassettes were well aware of his plans. Well, most of the plans. He had sent off all of his symbiotes in preparation of this confrontation. Even if this particular meeting didn’t end in an interfacial incident, this was not a discussion he wanted either of the twins privy to. He could only imagine how poorly they would react to the idea of their Host being intimate with anyone, never mind this particular seeker.
Thankfully he was saved from his mental wanderings by a knock and the TIC remotely keyed the door open. The seeker that stood in the doorway certainly looked exhausted. His plating was dull, though clean and his wings carried the same self-importance that the Winglord thought himself due.
“What is it you wanted Soundwave?” Starscream tried to keep the exhaustion and frustration out of his vocals but he wasn’t trying particularly hard. He had places to be and so many things to be doing on top of whatever nonsense the TIC wanted from him. There should be no reason whatever this was couldn’t have been a comm. It was especially strange to have this meeting in Soundwave’s habsuite no less. Still, he had no reason to particularly distrust the Host mech and stepped fully into the habsuite.
“Soundwave: Aware of Starscream’s condition.” The Host mech made sure he was at an acceptable distance that would not be read as a threat but was still close enough to act if he needed to. He hoped he didn’t have to and that this was just one of those instances of the seeker being contrary and complicated for the sake of it.
“Everyone is aware I’m exhausted.” The Air Commander sneered, balling his servos into fists to stop himself from turning this physical. One of the worst parts of carrying so far had been remembering not to start any fist fights. Separation couldn’t come fast enough for someone from a culture that relied on might having right.
“Amendment; Soundwave, aware Starscream is forging.”
The terror in Starscream’s field and mind was so sudden and so overpowering, for a moment Soundwave thought it might drive him to his knees. That was something that he was going to have to deal with. If the seeker’s stress couldn’t be brought down under normal circumstances he was going to have to either apply his outlier or find a chemical solution. Neither seemed appealing. Given the amount of focus and power it would take to use his mind to bend a processor as strong and stubborn as the Air Commander’s, it would leave him with quite the helm ache. Not to mention that without consulting with a skilled medic like Ratchet or Hoist, he would have no idea what he could even safely give the seeker.
“Starscream; desist.” The order droned out as the Host mech made up his mind and stepped fully into the seeker’s personal space. Before the Winglord could react, he snatched his wrists in unyielding blue servos. That only spurred the seeker to trash and screech at him. It wasn’t even words it was imply noise. At the worst volume and pitch possible. It certainly felt like he was being attacked with his sensitive hearing and sensors.
A blat of sound out of his speakers had Starscream dropping his weight suddenly, trying to take them to the ground in hopes that the suddenness would make him release the other mech’s servos. He held on and bore them both to the ground as carefully as he could, the wildness and desperation in the seeker’s field wasn’t helping him keep focused. Still, it was a crack in the SIC’s normally impeccable mental armor.
“Starscream; will desist or will be made to desist.” He pushed physically and with his powerful gift at the same time. The seeker, weakened from nearly two quartex of exhaustion and stress, buckled and collapsed. Soundwave, ever the ideal Decepticon, was quick to take advantage of the situation. Forcing his EM field brutishly into the Air Commander made the seeker that much more vulnerable and he followed it up with his gift. The shrieking quickly died off, followed by all thoughts of fighting.
Soundwave could only assume it was the extreme exhaustion that the SIC was suffering that was allowing him to get such a quick upper hand over the other’s processor. It was far too easy to plant the ideas and push a thick fog of desire into the seeker’s cortex. It wasn’t forcing if the Air Commander wanted it, and he was going to want it. The TIC was making very sure of that. After all, he didn’t want to risk stressing out the new-spark.
A dazed and almost blank look began to settle onto Starscream’s faceplates as the boom box’s outlier continued to push the thoughts and emotions at the mech he had pinned to the floor after only the faintest of struggles. If the seeker wanted to actually refuse, he was doing a terrible job of fighting him off and Soundwave was all too aware of how deadly the Winglord could be when he wanted to be. He could feel the resistance fade further and fans kicked up several notches as arousal suffused through out the seeker’s EM field.
Starscream moaned softly, white thighs spreading to accommodate the Host mech and arched his back strut gently. The dazed look on his faceplates never left and he whimpered as hot panels ground back down against his own. Things felt floaty and distant but in a pleasant way. It felt good to be touched like this and he wondered faintly why he hadn’t wanted to before. The wondering was quickly brushed aside as well and all the seeker could do was pant and writhe. There were no thought trees left in his cortex.
It was far more arousing than Soundwave anticipated, having the hot and attractive seeker beneath him. He was aware, in a sort of abstract way that physically at least, the Air Commander was a handsome mech. Because the TIC saw more of the emotional and mental side of the seeker, it was the sort of thing that he never fully paid attention to. Why would he? Starscream was ugly on the inside so far as the Host was concerned.
But like this? Arching beneath him and oh so needy? Soundwave had always had a soft spot for small, pathetic things.
Starscream might not be small but he was so very pathetic.
Especially like this.
Only a few touches to the seeker’s golden canopy had his interfacing panels popping open and lubricant seeping down a bright red aft. White thighs fell open just a little wider, the shift causing engorged valve lips to gap ever so slightly and reveal the pulsing hole hidden beneath. The seeker seemed to be incapable of words and that suited Soundwave just fine.
It was no hardship to let his own panel slide back, his spike pressurizing smoothly. It was an average thing, white with dark blue biolights and whorled ridged from the tip to the base. Taking himself in hand he indulged in a short few strokes to warm himself up to the idea of spiking the mech sprawled out beneath him. It had been quite some time since he had bothered to even self-service, never mind full out interfacing with another person.
Awkwardly he pressed his hips forward and Starscream whimpered needily, shifting his frame so that they were aligned. It would take little effort to take what was being presented to him. To brace himself and keep the seeker relatively still, he placed a dark blue servo on that oh so alluring golden cockpit. Being pinned seemed to do something for Starscream because the seeker tipped his helm back and moaned, low and fully.
Seeker set in place, he guided his spike into a hot and clutching valve that was unlike anything Soundwave had experienced in vorns. It was so good. Soft and wet and just the right amount of tightness to squeeze at his spike. So good. So very, very good. Had interfacing been like this before? Was he forgetting because it had been just that long? Or was there something about Starscream in particular? Was this what had driven the Air Commander’s trine to take what they saw as theirs?
It was for the best that it didn’t matter if he lasted, he thought with a groan. All he needed to do was make sure that he provided the gravid seeker with the transfluid he would need to help build the frame for the new-spark. And provide he would.
Soundwave worked his hips gently at first, finding his rhythm before he started to really drive his spike deep inside of the Air Commander that was sprawled beneath him. The seeker writhed with pleasure beneath him, words and thought long gone from his cortex. He was perfect like this, a needy receptacle just for the boom-box’s pleasure and fluids. He could keep him just like this, dazed and wanting.
His coding suggested the impossible as he fragged; that he could spark the seeker up more. It was a heady little fantasy that had the boom-box pressing the seeker’s thighs up and wider so that the other mech was folded nearly in half. It opened Starscream’s pelvis just a little further and it let the tip of the Host’s spike catch at that little flexing ring that it hadn’t quite reached before.
The skip of the spike tip across the sensor nodes for his forge’s iris had Starscream letting out a wailing cry as he overloaded. Calipers rippled, squeezing and encouraging the spike inside to follow along. It was only a klik before the navy blue mech fell into overload as well, mesh covered calipers squeezing and milking him for all that he was worth.
Soundwave was helpless to the pleasure but managed to push his hips that last micron further so the tip of his spike stayed lodged against that iris, transfluid spurting deep into the seeker’s crucible. A stuttering moan escaped him and he held tight. He kept his grip on white thighs, only rocking his hips gently once his own overload had finished. His spike was still hard and he rutted into the seeker gladly, chasing a second high. This would be a long quartex but it would certainly be no hardship to continue to do this.
His control slipped ever so slightly and the desire and fog that he had pushed onto the seeker’s cortex lifted just enough for his optics to brighten with faint awareness. He was ever so gently confused and for some reason that made Soundwave’s own arousal climb higher. Yes, if this was how he had to deal with the SIC he would manage just fine.
“Soundwave? What’s…” Starscream panted and whimpered as he was driven into, pleasure surging through all of his systems as his valve was worked over and over. His frame tried to arch into the punishing thrusts, the position that he was being pressed into had his coding singing. There was something about that… He didn’t know what it was, but he felt like he was supposed to not like this. It was a distant thought, one that he couldn’t quite grasp, but it was there none the less despite all the pleasure wracking him.
“Starscream: Requires donations to ensure frame integrity and proper construction of sparkling. Soundwave: Assisting.” The TIC managed to speak over the wet sounds of their arrays and the rough clangs of armor meeting armor. The softest flicker of a second EM field present for a single klik had his code demanded he provide for the gravid mech beneath him. It was the first sign he had felt and it made him turn his rutting into a relentless pounding rhythm.
“D-Donations?” The seeker gasped out before he cried out in shock as a second overload rocked through his frame, chasing away what little thoughts he had managed to gather. He tried to bring his arms up but having his knees pushed practically into his shoulders left him unable to do much. It was so hard to focus, he felt so hot, from arousal, from the forge inside of him working to begin build the small frame for the new-spark. His processor was likely overheating, coolant being burnt through at an alarming rate.
Soundwave continued his punishing pace, the spasming and fluttering valve driving him to deepen his thrusts until it wasn’t physically possible for him to reach deeper. The ridged whorls that hid the sensor nodes of his spike were relentlessly stimulated by the other’s nodes and the desperate rippling of calipers. He felt the little sealed iris that had been bullied open, widen just a bit more and accept just a fraction more of his spike tip. It was deep enough now that he could feel his internal magnets engaging, locking his spike into place just as his overload crested and pleasure wracked his frame and processor.
Starscream let out a ragged moan as a third, smaller but very draining overload rippled him. He was shaking now, legs going just a little lax in the boom-boxes sturdy hold. “Mmm… Sss…” Words were too much, moving was too much. All he could do was feel the way that his calipers worked slowly, massaging and drawing out as much transfluid as possible. He could feel the way it filled him, so deeply inside. It made his coding purr in satisfaction.
The magnets wouldn’t disengage until his internal reservoir was drained. Thankfully at least he’d had the first overload so it wasn’t full. It should only take a breem or two to empty completely and Soundwave found his frame flagging a bit under the strain of what he had done. It was more activity than he normally engaged in while not in active combat, never mind the strain of influencing the seeker’s cortex.
Letting the seeker bear all of his weight, the TIC reached out with his gift to sort through the open and unprotected processor of the seeker lodged beneath him. good good feels good, hot, so hot, bad? good shouldn’t be good why good where trine not safe not safe TRINE not safe no trine safe? tired so tired why good why tired why why why sparkling can feel ALIVE happy so happy so sad so upset mad mad too much scared scared scared Scared SCARED
Starscream wasn’t even truly aware and yet his discordant thoughts and emotions had Soundwave reeling. It was so much and if this was the seeker restrained by coding and exhaustion he didn’t even want to know what it might feel like to breach those impressive mental walls and finally see what the impeccable SIC was capable of when he wasn’t hobbled. His outlier wasn’t unstoppable and while some mechs had mental walls thick enough to keep him out, other’s had such alien thought patterns that even though he could read them he couldn’t understand what he found.
The seeker’s thinking wasn’t linear, and that could be the exhaustion or it could just be how he normally thought. Either way it was uncomfortable and he was grateful when the locking magnets in his spike disengaged and he was able to slip free from that hot valve. His spike was tender as he let it slide back into it’s housing and closed up his interfacing panels a short klik afterwards. Thankfully between the supplements and the seeker’s own transfuild reservoirs he would only have to donate a short handful of times per deca-cycle.
Soundwave was careful as he released the seeker and crawled back off of him gently. He stood and hovered a full step back, out of striking range. He didn’t want to leave until he was sure that he hadn’t somehow damaged anything in his coding driven fervor. It had felt good to him and it had seemed like it had felt good to the seeker too, but it was better to be sure of these things. Who knew if the seeker’s frame integrity had been compromised yet or not?
The tri-coloured seeker lay there, dazed from his back to back overloads and the way his coding was changing and evolving inside of his helm. He was slow to move his legs, hips creaking as they were eased out of the unforgiving position that he had been pressed and bent into. True coherence was slow to return to him and even with it there was a distant feeling to what had just happened to him. His entire frame thrummed pleasantly from the overloads and the material that had been provided to it.
The conflicting emotions and physical desires didn’t help the wild and terrible feeling inside of him. The new-spark flared it’s little field, excited and happy. It was a sharp contradiction to his own and it only compounded the confusion he was covering up. He had wanted what happened. Sort of. But he hadn’t want it at all at the same time. The lust and arousal had been there though he didn’t remember anything building up to that or why he would give in to the sensation.
“…why?” He hadn’t wanted the so called help, he knew that at least. He hadn’t wanted to be touched again. He had been prepared to give up his frame integrity and the risk of never having proper armor again. It had been worth it, in his mind. It had been worth the risk that he wouldn’t metabolize future supplements enough to build his armor or struts back up to proper war-frame specs. He hadn’t wanted to be used, and yet… And yet it seemed so inescapable and here he was again. The yawning pit of despair that Thundercracker had opened inside of him seemed to widen just a little more.
Starscream’s normal shields still weren’t in place and that deep, angsty feeling rocked into Soundwave before he could stop himself from mentally reaching out. That on top of the risk to the seeker’s frame made him pivot on all of his plans. He had originally intended to just sort of do as he had now, wait until the coding was desperate and then push at the cracks until the Air Commander snapped and let him spike him. This sensation though… He would have to do something about this or the seeker would buckle under the TIC’s onslaught. Since apparently the cursed seeker couldn’t be made to see sense.
And that would defeat the entire purpose of what he was doing. Worst case was that the seeker offlined himself before the sparkling separated, and with how he felt… That seemed like a very distinct and likely possibility. Originally he had thought that the seeker’s lack of care would cause the sparkling to come out weak or destabilize and the Air Commander’s armor to become brittle and compromise his future use in battle. But this? This was much worse and as TIC he would have to deal with it. As much as he hated it, he was all too aware that the Decepticons needed Starscream. It was the reason that Megatron never truly did anything about the SIC’s attempts to usurp him.
“Starscream: necessary for Decepticon cause. Starscream: Not caring for himself. Soundwave: Will care and provide for Starscream.” It was as close to the truth that the TIC would give to the other. That he would continue to do so whether or not the seeker wanted it wasn’t relevant. The Air Commander would learn to accept his help and that was the end of it.
The seeker didn’t know what to say to that. That the boom box wasn’t wrong helped a little, but only a little. He knew they needed him, but did his own autonomy not matter? Did his own desires not matter? What were they fighting for if not for the right to chose? Finally he shifted, wincing out as his hips screamed at him when his legs closed to sit up. He breathed through the pain, armor rustling to try and hide his discomfort.
“Injured?” That had not been Soundwave’s intention and he stepped forward, reaching for the seeker automatically. Said seeker hissed at him and he backed off. He would care for the other and strengthen the Decepticon cause. Hurting him when he was so vulnerable wouldn’t help the cause. Forcing Starscream to enjoy and want it was something different and would take time and effort. Time and effort he was willing to put in. Hopefully it would also reduce the risk of this happening.
“What do you think?!” It was a sharp sensation of over stretched cables and pulleys, not to mention the sting in his valve from not being prepared. Barely aroused and wet wasn’t enough. He was not meant to bend in such a way, no matter how much his coding had very much liked the way it cradled the crucible in his forge. His entire pelvic assembly ached and his valve was beyond tender from being used so thoroughly.
“Starscream: No need for aggression.” Not here at least. Soundwave’s quarters would have to continue to be where he pursued this. He couldn’t risk the Air Commander’s trine interfering with his plans, and given what the rumours said they had done it was very unlikely that the seeker would even reach out to them to begin with.
Rage covered up the hurt and despair neatly. Neither of them were gone, but anger felt so much better. It was safer. “No need? No NEED?! You!!” Starscream snarled and forced himself to stand, stumbling ever so slightly as something in his pelvis clicked from the sudden motion. “If you do anything like this again, I will make sure you live to suffer through what I’ll do in return. Do you understand me?”
Soundwave inclined his helm ever so slightly, not quite agreeing but willing to let the other think that this would be the end of it. He had a few orns before he would need to donate to the construction and that gave him some room to plan and make sure that the seeker would want him since he clearly didn’t want his trine. He would ensure the future of the Decepticons and their cause. No matter what might be needed from the individual, the cause was greater and would always be put first.
He would be careful but his original plan was now being upgraded. Operation: Seduce Starscream would have to be meticulously planned out with multiple fall back plans. Soundwave would not fail, not in this. So he let the seeker go without any further fighting or use of his gift. He would have plenty of time for pettiness after the sparkling separated.