Chapter Text
“Bloody—damn—Megatron!” Starscream snarled and flipped into root mode. Energon seeped from his arm where the fusion cannon blew a bit off, and the Seeker grimaced in equal parts pain and fury at it. “I’m going to kill that old fragger.” He promised darkly. “I’m going to kill him. Slag him. Rip that damn cannon off and—” Starscream broke off and grunted.
Something was itching his pede.
He bent down and, instead of swatting it away like he normally would, he picked it up and held whatever was itching his pede to his face.
Truthfully, he was expecting something simple and stupid, like some organic this planet was so strangely fond of spewing out into the world, but instead, he found—
“Scraplet.” Starscream hissed and tightened his grip. The scraplet wriggled, sharp little dentae whirring threateningly. For the first time in a long time, Starscream felt somewhat thankful for his smaller, thinner frame. Such a frame, after all, made it so that he did not have any empty spots when he tightened his grip upon things. Like this scraplet. Starscream peered closer at it. Its optics were the standard color violet-blue, and Starscream sneered. “Well, look at you, hm? Useless little thing. You thought you could hurt me, hm? A Seeker? My kind used to hunt you for sport!”
The scraplet struggled unintelligently in his grasp.
It was true. Vos was a military city, and it had to keep its funding somehow, and given that scraplets were known, irritating pests that dominated the ground, Vos found their funding in mass extermination.
Of course, an unexpected side effect of that was the scraplets’ newfound adaptation to fly, but then again; it was a disorganized little parasite versus a squadron of refined hunters that found a taste for scraplet, so…
Starscream felt something itching at his pede again, and he looked down. Three more scraplets. They were chewing holes into his armor. Damn it, Starscream scowled, and an odd calm settled over his processor, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since the early days of the war. I forgot they traveled in groups…
Starscream snatched the ones on his pedes up with his other servo. They all joined the first one in wriggling fruitlessly for freedom. Starscream leaned back and stared at them in amusement. Their futile struggling was actually… kind of cute. And they had those big optics, and the giant intakes, and Starscream felt a giggle burst out of his throat.
At once, all the scraplets stopped wriggling, and they stared at him.
Starscream, in continuing amusement, scratched the top of one scraplet’s helm. “Cutie.” He murmured. “Who’s a little cutie?”
The scraplet, against all odds and logic itself, shuttered its optics and leaned into Starscream’s touch. How stupid. Starscream could kill them all in seconds. He could eat them and he would relish in the taste of them. Such was the nature of Seekers after all.
Instead, against all logic and processor function, he brought the scraplet he’d pet closer to his faceplate, and then pressed a light kiss to it. “Don’t be stupid.” He warned. “I’ll let this slide for now, because you’re cute and I’m bored, but if you do it again, I will kill you all and eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Then, he gently set all four scraplets down, pressing light kisses onto each of their helms (check for processor malfunction when return to Nemesis, he noted himself) and then shooed them off.
The scraplets stared at Starscream, stared at each other, and then stared back at Starscream again, before coming to some unanimous realization and leaving.
Starscream smiled, satisfied.
O~O
“Knock Out!”
Knock Out grimaced and pretended he didn’t hear anything. Maybe, he thought, though he knew it was futile. Maybe if I just pretend hard enough, he’ll leave me alone—
“Knock Out!”
“Ah!” Knock Out turned around, strained smile in perfect place on his faceplate. Breakdown was behind him, against the wall. (Damn it, and things were just getting interesting) “Herr Kommandant! What brings you here?”
Starscream waltzed onto the medical berth and lounged there as if Knock Out and Breakdown hadn’t interfaced there mere hours before. (Well. The less the Air Commander knew, the better, Knock Out supposed. Ignorance is bliss, as the humans say) “I require you to check me for processor malfunction!” he waved his servo with a flourish.
Knock Out cursed under his breath, and removed his servo from Breakdown’s thigh. Breakdown made a slightly mournful noise, but loosened his own grip on Knock Out’s shoulder. “Of course!” the Medic gritted, and he repressed the urge to throttle Starscream with a saw-blade. “Let me just boot up… everything.”
“Hm.” Starscream faced Knock Out, unimpressed. “Was I interrupting something?”
Before Knock Out could answer, Breakdown interjected. “Yes.”
“Ah.” Starscream stared at Breakdown for a few moments, before snorting. “Good then.”
Knock Out’s servo twitched. “Pray to Primus, Starscream.” He recommended, after a few moments. “Pray to Primus that you really do have a processor malfunction. Or I am going to let you suffer the next time our dear Lord and Master deigns to lay a servo on you.”
Starscream grimaced. “I do have a processor malfunction.” He assured. “I kissed four scraplets and then let them go.”
Knock Out stopped. Turned around. “You what?”
Starscream waved a wild servo, and an inordinately distressed (though, considering the cause, the distress was actually understated) look appeared on his faceplate. “I know! That’s what I’m saying! I let them go! I should have eaten them or something!” Starscream lay back and banged his helm against the medical berth, keening painfully.
Eaten them?
Eaten them?????
“Eaten them?”
Who—Ah. Breakdown asked that.
“Yes, eaten them!” Starscream whined and pressed the heels of his servos into his optics. “But they were so cute, Knock Out! Those big purple optics, and the sharp little dentae—ah!” Starscream made a noise and his wings hiked up in the telltale sign of an oncoming rant.
Knock Out made a point to stop it before it could start. “You do have a processor malfunction.” Knock Out assured. He hadn’t taken the scan yet, but surely something in accordance would pop up. Starscream could be unhinged at times, but every single one of those moments could be attributed to rationality hiked up to the point of lunacy. Or Megatron. Either one could work.
“I do?” Starscream squawked and sat up in the medical berth.
“You do.” Knock Out affirmed, with the utmost confidence, at the same time the scanner he’d activated announced:
‘All Clear’
For a few seconds, the med bay was silent, the only thing audible being a light whirring sound in the vents, and then Starscream turned slowly to face Knock Out, faceplate eerily calm, and he said, “Your device is glitching.”
Knock Out stared at the screen in horror. He couldn’t bring himself to agree with Starscream, but—
“Herr Kommandant, I got this serviced today.” Knock Out swallowed. “Did you—Did you really—”
“Knock Out.” Starscream snarled, and he leaped off the berth, optics crazed. Belatedly, Knock Out realized that Starscream’s arm was crusted with dried energon. Why hadn’t the Seeker come to him for it? “Choose your next words wisely.”
“Sit back on the berth, Starscream.” Knock Out rubbed his fore-helm. “Breakdown, go get the manual scanner and the welding kit. I’m going to fix your arm.”
Starscream jolted and looked at his arm, as if only now noticing that it was there. Breakdown came trudging to the pair a few moments later. In his right servo he held the welding kit, and in his left, the manual scanner. Knock Out hooked the manual scanner up to feedback circuit, and started scanning, idly directing Breakdown to Starscream’s arm.
‘All Clear’
Knock Out paused and frowned. Breakdown stopped in his motion. He’d gotten halfway through the welding. Starscream was also staring at Knock Out inquisitively. Knock Out, spark churning, looked Starscream in the optic and said, “You don’t have a processor malfunction.”
Starscream, who seemed to have been suspecting that from the first ‘All Clear’ that had been announced, immediately banged the back of his helm against the medical berth and groaned.
O~O
The Nemesis was a cold, imposing ship. Starscream loved it. He put damn near his entire life into the Nemesis.
He was the one to maintain her wings, he was the one to polish her hull, he was the one to regulate the fuel supply. Everyone gave that credit to Soundwave, but really. Of the two of them, Starscream was the one with far more emotional attachment and investment into the ship.
That was why it was all the more bitter when he walked up to the command deck and found not himself sitting in the metallic throne, but Megatron instead.
“You summoned me, Master?” Starscream gritted out after a few moments of silence.
Megatron stared at him blankly. Assessing. Airachnid was ever the simpering, irritating presence next to him. Next to him.
Hah.
Insult to injury.
(He was Megatron’s second-in-command. Not—Not her.)
“Starscream.” Megatron stood up, the deck creaking with each booming step he took. Starscream inched back. “Your untimely departure has… vexed me.” He stopped in front of the Seeker and stooped to meet his gaze. The creaking continued.
The creaking continued?
Starscream frowned involuntarily. “A thousand apologies, my lord.” He muttered absently.
“Apologies?” Megatron laughed incredulously. The creaking continued. Was it getting louder? “Starscream, your apologies don’t do anything. Your words mean nothing. You bring little results, if any.” He peered at Starscream, though the Seeker, at this point, was well and truly distracted.
The creaking was getting closer.
“Starscream.” Megatron hissed, and his EM-field swelled to a barely-contained balloon of rage.
All of a sudden, Starscream jumped up, grabbed Megatron by the helm, and pulled himself forward, and—
And then pulled back.
In his servo was a wriggling, chirping, scraplet.
“Soundwave.” Megatron’s vocalizer was strained. Airachnid had paled. Soundwave started paying attention. “Raise the alerts. We have an infestation.”
Wordlessly, as always, Soundwave pressed a button and the Nemesis started blaring. Starscream grimaced.
“Starscream.” Megatron’s voice was very controlled. “Destroy that thing.”
Starscream frowned. Looked at the scraplet. It looked back at him with its… cute… purple… optics… Starscream keened mournfully. “I—I can’t.”
“Starscream!” Megatron activated his fusion cannon. “Are you so useless of a Seeker that you can’t even kill one scraplet—”
It was as if a comedy show had overtaken the Nemesis. A really bad comedy show, with someone who had terrible humor driving the reins. For at that very moment, three vents exploded outwards and a veritable swarm of scraplets came flying out.
The Command Deck erupted into chaos.
Megatron started shooting blindly into the fray. Soundwave deposited Laserbeak in a non-metallic box Starscream had given him near the beginning of the war as a gift. Airachnid was screaming and trying to find a way off the Nemesis. Knock Out and Breakdown did not even bother showing up.
Meanwhile Starscream was just standing there, scratching the scraplet on the top of her helm (he decided it was a her) and cooing inanely like he truly did have a processor malfunction over the years. “Such a cutie, aren’t you? Yes you are. Yes you are!”
The scraplet trilled.
“Starscream!”
Megatron’s voice was lost in the swarm.
(Idly, Starscream wondered how long it would take them to realize that the scraplets weren’t eating them)
“Good girl.” Starscream cooed. The scraplet in his servo rubbed her helm against his digits and purred. Starscream smiled. “I shall name you…” he hesitated. “Princess.”
The scraplet jumped out of his servo and started cuddling up next to his neck cables. Bit by bit, the rest of the scraplet swarm also settled around him.
In the end, Starscream was surrounded by roughly 600 scraplets, all vying for his attention and/or curling up for recharge next to him. He crooned at them mindlessly. They were so cute—
“Starscream—” Megatron’s voice sounded strangled. It was also, unfortunately, what brought Starscream out of the haze he found himself inadvertently drowning in.
Silently, the Seeker took stock of his situation. 600 scraplets. All at his beck and call. Starscream looked up at Megatron, whose optics and EM-field belied his fear (albeit very slightly), and grinned. “I’m keeping them.”