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What the frag is that?" asks Thundercracker. Megatron's Christmas gift sputters, sending a quick succession of flashes across the room. There is quite suddenly a small hole in the far wall.
"It's Megatron's Christmas present," Starscream informs him. He doesn't bother looking up - can't, actually, not without risking a rather unfavorable explosion.
"Why?" Thundercracker's voice is so incredulous it is offensive. "You hate Christmas. You hate every human holiday. And so does Megatron."
"Well, I'm celebrating this year." Starscream pinches a wire connector down. He really should have removed the power before doing this, but it had taken so long to get those slagging batteries in, and the stupid thing had broken only a second after. But this fix should stick. He begins the process of putting it back together.
"And what are those?" Thundercracker asks, pointing to the two identical presents laid haphazardly down the work-table.
"Your gifts," Starscream says. "Don't look at them."
"I'm looking at them," Thundercracker says. "I don't know what they are though."
"Good." Starscream pops the last panel back on. "Go away."
"I don't think you understand Christmas," Thundercracker tells him. "It's supposed to be less about deadly presents more about togetherness."
"The only good gifts are deadly," Starscream informs him. "Keep that in mind when you get mine."
Thundercracker rolls his optics. "Whatever," he says. "I assume Megatron's gift is going to backfire and kill him? Don't get those mixed up."
This thought had crossed Starscream's mind before. "Yours is marked," he says, pointing towards the farthest of the long, narrow cylinders.
"And Skywarp's?"
Starscream shrugs. "He can die." He wipes his servos on a rag, stands, and stretches. Then he looks down on his creations, finally complete. "Oh," he says, "Can you wrap these?"
"No." Thundercracker crosses his arms. "Absolutely not," he says. "I'm not participating in whatever scheme you have going on."
Starscream shrugs. "Fine. I don't care." He wipes his servos again, then fetches three long boxes that previously packed pipe-metal. He shoves the gifts inside, and is pleased when no holes are burnt through any of the boxes.
"Well, now which one is mine?" Thundercracker asks.
Starscream peers into each box until he finds the little mark on the butt end of the third present. "This one." He thrusts the box forward. "Since you care so much."
Thundecracker takes the box delicately, carefully, and gently, which are all distinct precautions. "I have no idea what this is," he says. "But thanks, I suppose."
This is a genuine thank you, and Starscream is reminded who his favorite trinemate is. He decides to return this familial affection. "You should begin training with it," he warns. "Skywarp will be naturally talented at it."
"Uh-" Thundercracker peers back into his box. "And it's dangerous?"
"Obviously."
Thundercracker nods. "Is it a laser gun?" he guesses.
Starscream huffs and reminds himself that Thundercracker doesn't mean to be offensive. He's not a particularly good Decepticon, in that he does not have the natural affection for stupidly deadly equipment as a proper Decepticon should. "Don't be ridiculous,” he chastises. "Everyone and their stupid trinemate has a laser gun. This is a Light-Saber. Previously only existing in the imaginations of gross little organics, I have created the first self-sustaining, self-containing, deadly energy sword."
"Oh," says Thundercracker, "Well that's..."
It is at this moment that Starscream's other stupid trinemate bursts into existence. "A Light-Saber?" he shouts. "Cool!" he grabs for the two boxes Starscream has clutched to his chest. Starscream pulls away.
"Don't spy," Starscream tells him. "This is supposed to be a surprise. That's how this ridiculous holiday works." He pulls the boxes back, but Skywarp manages to snag his claws into one of them.
"Hey wait, one of those is for Megatron," Thundercracker says, though he makes no move to involve himself in the tussle beginning on the lab floor. "You're gonna kill yourself."
Unfortunately for everyone, Skywarp wins their little tussle. Well, more accurately, Starscream allows him to win. That's what he will say, anyway. Skywarp scampers backwards with one of the boxes, sticks one servo into it, and pulls free the unassuming metal cylinder.
"You are supposed to wait until Christmas," Starscream says. "You clearly don't understand the holiday. Thudercracker, tell him."
Thundercracker sighs. "Skywarp, that might be boobytrapped. "
"Don't care," replies Skywarp. He begins to fiddle with the buttons on the side. Starscream beats a hasty retreat to the far side of the room, but not out the door. He would like to watch.
Skywarp's Light-Saber buzzes. Then it begins to glow. Then it begins to shake.
"That's so slagging cool," Skywarp announces. He waves the saber around, and it makes a humming, whooshing sound.
And then, just as the after-images of the saber's movements have begun to burn themselves into Starscream's optics, there is a small pop.
"Huh," says Skywarp.
"I don't like that sound," says Thundercracker, standing far too close.
The light-saber explodes. It is, as all explosions engineered by Starscream, glorious.
When it's over, Skywarp is laying on the ground, blinking stupidly up at the ceiling. "Worth it," he stutters, and smoke comes out of his mouth.
"I warned you," Thundercrackers tells him. "That was for Megatron."
Starscream shakes his helm. "No," he says. "No, Megatron's is much stronger."