Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ars, Why are we sneaking to–”

“Shush it, Hot Rod.”

The red lights a few feet away from them shone, in search of anything. It switched off, the sound of helicopters fading away. The harsh winds came to a pause.

“C’mon,” Arcee’s optics looked towards Hot Rod before tilting her helm. “They said it was this way.” She held up a broken data pad, glitched but functioning.

“You’re still not telling me why we’re going to some fragging archives.” Hot Rod walked over to Arcee, before falling behind and following with an annoyed expression. “How’s that gonna help us not get killed?”

“The Archives fall under The Luminary’s Cybertronian History department,” Arcee explained as she slipped into a corner, peeking her helm out to check if Hot Rod was following. “And if we happen to work under a department under The Luminary, less likely they will kill us.”

“And that works… how?” Hot Rod slipped right beside her. He narrowed his optics.

“Because–Why do you keep asking questions?” Arcee sighed. “Look, as long as The Luminary sees we submit to them, they’ll leave us ‘rebellious’ bots alone.” She then ran into the alleyway. “There’s a door somewhere!”

“Slow down!” Hot Rod yelled, running after her. “By Primus,” he grumbled.

Hot Rod slowed down. Arcee was nowhere to be seen. The alleyway was pretty dark and filled with random scrap metal. He kicked away a random panel, frowning. “Arcee?”

He walked around (not nervously, definitely), servos tracing the walls.

SLAM!

“Hot Rod!” Yelled the voice of Arcee as Hot Rod irritatedly rubbed his face plate. “Aghhhh…” He grumbled.

“Oh!” Arcee looked over, towards Hot Rod. “Sorry. I wanted to make sure you weren’t kidnapped. Or dead.” She helped him with a servo, pulling him up so he could stand up on his pedes. “Ya good?”

“Yeahhhh… not like you smacked me on my face plate.” Hot Rod said with a sour tone. 

The sounds of helicopters approaching alarmed the both of them. “Hurry!” Arcee growled. She led the two into the large black building. 

“So… we’re basically getting a job to hide from the government?” Hot Rod crouched behind a large shelf filled with boxes of data pads. “Pretty much. Now shut up.” Arcee hissed as she peeped out from behind, optics trailing to what seemed to be another door. 

“We need to get there.” Arcee said. “Once we get to that door we’ll just have to…”

Hot Rod's attention shifted to a strange shelf in the corner of the room. Even if it was dark, he could somewhat make out its shape. Sure it looked like every other shelf in the room. A glow behind the shelf pulsed softly.

What was that?

“Y’know, I think we sold a decent amount of articles today.” A voice said as the door opened, snapping Hot Rod out of his thoughts.

Hot Rod pressed his back against the shelf, vents hitching as they listened to the conversation.

“Only fifty shanix,” another voice replied. “That’s really bad.”

“Fifty shanix is a lot.” Hot Rod muttered to himself, and so did the other bot at the same time. Arcee placed a finger over her lips, “Shh.”

“Okay, but fifty shanix is only two papers, Bee.” A box hit the metallic floor. “And fifty shanix is still fifty shanix, Cliff.” 

Hot Rod placed his servo against the floor—crack. He lifted up his servo to realize he had accidentally crushed a small data pad. “Scrap.”

“What was that?” ‘Bee’ asked, seemingly alarmed by the sound. “No one should be in here other than us!” ‘Cliff’ yelled.

The sound of a weapon charging up received exchanged glances between Hot Rod and Arcee, both of them worried. “Just, shhh!” She hissed.

“Cliff, we can’t be shooting the data pads.” Bee growled, both of their steps approaching the shelf slowly. “Whoever’s back there, come out—please?”

“Uhhhm.” Arcee tapped her chin, thinking. She narrowed her optics before standing up–“Are you crazy??” Hot Rod snapped at her, servos grabbing the shelf as she stood. He reached out to drag her back down, but she had already stood up tall.

“Heyyy.” Arcee smiled nervously, servos up in surrender. “We’re just here for a job.”

Hot Rod peeped from the shelf, getting a glimpse of the two bots. One yellow and the other red—but both looked almost the same (mind for the red one’s missing horn). 

“And how do we know you aren’t lying?” Cliff nudged his gun a little closer. “And who the frag is ‘we’?” 

Hot Rod quickly stood up beside Arcee, “uhh, me.” Arcee then waved the broken data pad in her servo, having just pulled it from the sub space on her side. The data pad flickered on, a small advertisement glowing in the midst of the darkness of the room.

She said, “It says the job is open for Autobots and Decepticons alike.” Arcee pointed at her chassis where a faded Autobot symbol was found, scratched and worn until it was barely visible. She pointed at Hot Rod’s symbol as well. 

“…”

“Why didn’t you (we) just use the front door?” Hot Rod, and Bee asked in sync.

“Abyssmus’ minions were after us as we ran.” Arcee sipped the energon cube. “One of them came by and—” “I totally smacked their aft.” Hot Rod claimed with a grin as he leaned over. Arcee rolled her optics, shoving Hot Rod’s helm away. “Did not happen at all.”

Bumblebee—the yellow one’s name as Hot Rod had come to learn—smiled. He nodded eagerly, “go on.” Cliffjumper—the red one’s name—grumbled under his breath as he leaned back in his seat with crossed arms. 

“One of them came by and nearly killed us. Luckily, their bomb that they threw exploded in their face—so we made a run for it.” Arcee paused, drinking the rest of the blue energon. “We would’ve used the front door if those Luminary underlings weren’t chasing us left and right.” She shrugged. 

“Oof.” Bumblebee grimaced. “Sounded like a pretty rocky ride, if I do say so myself.”

Hot Rod nodded. “Yeah. Anyways, uh. Archives, huh? What… why… what do we do here?”

“Sell articles, dust off old data pads, boring scrap like that.” Cliffjumper answered with a lack of enthusiasm and interest. Bumblebee cut in, “And museum tours! Unfortunately, Cliffjumper and I have more important work in selling articles and working on finding more artifacts to add to the museum—so we can’t say for sure what doing museum tours is like.” His voice had more enthusiasm woven into his words. He had a large smile on his face plate. “The boss would probably train you guys. He’s doing one right now.” 

“Should’ve been done a bit ago.” Cliffjumper glanced at a clock, then back at Arcee and Hot Rod. “Nice flames.” He huffed.

Hot Rod gasped, “Thanks!” He then smirked at Arcee. “See? I toldja it was a good idea to have these decals on my chassis.” Arcee scoffed, “and nearly got us caught.”

“Can’t help it, I need to look flashy~.” Hot Rod said in a sing-song voice, his smirk never faltering.

“Bumblebee, Cliffjumper—Apologies for my delayed arrival. The tour happened to have stretched on longer than anticipated. I take it that you’ve done well with sales tod—…” Whatever strong (yet gentle) voice had entered the area faltered. The figure emerged from the darkness, the bot’s blue optics widening. “We have… guests?”

“They saw our ad.” Bumblebee raised his servo up. 

“It worked.” The bot gasped softly. “It worked!” A large smile came across his face.

“Heyyy…” Hot Rod greeted. Arcee gave a hesitant wave. 

The bot sat beside Cliffjumper, his optics side with anticipation.

Hot Rod sat silently, listening to the hums of the quiet archives. Arcee picked at a piece of metal on her arm.

“…”

“…” Hot Rod grunted softly. “Uh, are you gonna…”

“What brings you to this job?” The bot’s smile softened as he hunched over a bit. 

“Uhhh.” Hot Rod stuttered, but Arcee answered. “We’re… just looking for a place to stay.” Her servo pressed against her chassis. She watched as the bot in front of them nodded slowly, as if sympathizing.

“I… understand.” He leaned back as he held a servo out. “I hope we can provide safety for… both of you.” His optics flickered down towards their symbols before returning back to the two’s faces. The softness of his simple smile never wavered as he continued to hold his servo out.

Arcee was the first to shake his hand, then Hot Rod.

The bot stood up, still slightly slouched over even as he stood tall. He huffed, placing his servos on his hips. “I hope you two are interested in Cybertronian history!”

“Or selling papers,” Cliffjumper added with a grumble. Bumblebee chuckled and stood up beside the larger bot. “Still fun.” Bee said.

“And I’ve been looking for more bots to help me out on tours,” the bot rubbed his chin with a servo, a fond huff leaving his vents. He raised an optic ridge as he gave both Hot Rod and Arcee a look Hot Rod couldn’t quite decipher.

“So… us?” Hot Rod pointed at himself. “Precisely. You two seem quite… charismatic if I do say so myself,” The bot walked over behind them and gently guided the two towards the exit of The Archives. 

“What’s… your name?” Arcee glanced up at the larger mech, her blue optics boring into his. Hot Rod glanced at the mech as well.

“You may call me…” He thought for a moment, smile faltering just a little. 

“Orion.” 

Chapter Text

“People of Lumis,” 

The bot raised her arms up with a proud yet friendly smile. “Welcome!” She announced. “My faithful and loyal Cybertronian friends!”

A loud cheer erupted and echoed throughout the near-empty bar. Ratchet picked up his energon cube, optics intently watching the broadcast.

“Primordial Prime,” Ratchet spat quietly. The name was bitter on his tongue. Oh how he loathed her. He took a sip from his energon.

“Fifty stellar cycles ago, our Autobot and Decepticon friends created peace among themselves after thousands of cycles stuck in endless war.” Primordial said. Her voice lowered down to a humble whisper. On the screen, Ratchet could see an old article from a data pad pop up. The headlines read: “Autobots and Decepticons made peace!” 

Primordial continued, “Forty-five stellar cycles ago, the Autobots and Decepticons disbanded.” Another article popped up on top of the last: “Autobots and Decepticons disbanded.”

The screen returned to Primordial who took a sharp breath. “Forty-four stellar cycles ago,” She raised her arms up once more. “The Luminary was formed.”

The screen zoomed in on her face. Primordial placed a servo on her chest. “The Luminary has become a symbol of hope and harmony for Cybertron since, honoring the Primes before us.” She smiled as she moved aside to reveal a holographic model of Optimus Prime.

 “And the bots who have made great sacrifices for us to live in the world we are in today.” Primordial moved to the side again to reveal another holographic model, this time of Megatron.

“The All-Spark is still being located,” Primordial Prime said. 

The crowd made a disappointed sound. 

“Bur fear not, Cybertronian friends! We still have maintained the single fragment of The All-Spark. Despite its powers drained, I have high hopes that it will lead us to victory.” Primordial grinned with determination. “Even if our Energon supply may be low without it, I believe that if we all put our minds together: we can find it one day.”

“I think that’s enough bad news for one day. Now, how about some good news? The Space Bridge Exhibition at the Cybertronian Museum of History and The Arts is going to open very soon! Our historians are making a couple of adjustments but I’m still excited to announce the opening date…”

“Ratchet,” The broadcast switched off, a digit on the top of the box. “We must leave for our next destination.” 

“Yes, yes. I’m coming.” Ratchet answered as he stood up, the cube laying abandoned.

 “Can’t you be patient, Drift?” 

“I can be,”

“Hm.”

—

Hot Rod found himself somewhat… bored with the whole tour Orion gave. It was… so… BORING. Hot Rod groaned softly as he slumped over, following the two as Orion yapped.

What was so special about history anyways?

Hot Rod leaned over to Arcee and grumbled under his breath, “I’m bored… Why did you pick this job???” Arcee pushed Hot Rod’s helm away with a shove. “I already told you, this job  is going to keep us alive. It’s the only one that hires Autobots. That or it was the scrap heap.” She rolled her optics, “So if you want to work in the scrap heap, be my guest.”

“I mean… ughhh.” Hot Rod threw his helm back with another loud groan.

“History isn’t meant to be boring,” Orion spoke up, interrupting their conversation. “It’s meant to be an adventure. Cybertronian history is difficult to recover, especially after…” He paused, the walking coming to a pause. “These are just some pre-historic relics of the past, ones that we’ve already recovered long before The Luminary, long before the Autobots and Decepticons. However, the relics we aim to recover at the moment are those from the Autobot and Decepticon war.” 

Orion finally turned to them fully, his large frame looming over the two. “If you would allow me, I would like to show you what progress has been made.”

Both of the younger bots slowly nodded.

The room they had entered was larger than the others, filled with relics and a couple of empty cases here and there. “Fifty years since the war had ended,” Orion began as he walked through the wide walkway. “Our planet has been thriving. A Golden age—a new age for Cybertronians to live in peace.” 

Orion gestured to a small pulsing red dot on Cybertron. “Here is our city: Iacon.”

“Iacon? Isn’t our city named Lumis?” Hot Rod huffed as reached out to touch the hologram–only to have his servo slapped away by Arcee’s. “That is true. The Luminary renamed our largest city as a means to restarting Cybertron anew.” Orion answered as he then drew attention to two moons. “That is Moonbases one and two. The Luminary tends to… redirect attention towards the moons elsewhere.”

“Moving on,” Orion continued walking down the large path. “During the war, tons of technological advancement and progress had been made. Armor, weapons, defense systems, et-certa.” 

Hot Rod gasped softly as he came across an awesome flamethrower—it was slightly damaged and rusted. “Woah.”

“Additionally, it’s important to note that most of our knowledge of the war comes from documented accounts on data pads.” Orion gestured to a display shelf filled with data pads. There was a small screen at the bottom for bots to read the information on the data pads. “Most of our research stems from first hand accounts of the war.”

As they walked, Arcee paused for a moment, her attention suddenly drawn elsewhere. Hot Rod looked at Arcee, “What are you staring at?”

“Look,” Arcee smiled as she stared at three large statues. “Isn’t she so cool?” She ran over to the statues, optics sparkling. Each of them held their weapon, down turned and with their servos on the back of it right in front of them. A serious expression adorned each of their faces.

“These are the statues of Optimus Prime, Megatron, and Elita-One.” Orion suddenly said. His voice seemed… Sad? Hot Rod shrugged it off as he looked at Arcee. Hot Rod then asked her, “Of all of these three very great bots, why Elita-One?”

“I told you, she’s super cool.” Arcee mused. “That gun is so fragging cool, look at that!”

Hot Rod huffed, “These two also have a gun.”

“Ugh.” Arcee rolled her optics.

“These leaders made great decisions for their respective factions during the war.” Orion explained, “The Luminary honor them for the sacrifices they have made.”

“Sacrificing themselves to the Allspark, right?” Arcee asked, moving back. She looked at Orion with hopeful optics.

“… Precisely.” Orion nodded (although somewhat hesitantly). He glanced towards another corner of the room. “Come. There’s one more thing I must show you.”

The two silently followed Orion into another room, “Our greatest achievement by far.” He held his arms out proudly, “The Space Bridge.”

“No way.” Hot Rod murmured under his vent. 

The Space Bridge spanned across the whole room. The bridge was rounded, though rusted and damaged with age.

“The bridge is not functional, though we have replicated the properties of what a functioning space bridge would’ve looked like.” Orion walked over to a control panel and lifted up a lever. The sound of the bridge powering on echoed throughout the room, green lights flickering to life. “The lights are all for show and amusement. Nothing here works.”

“This room is pretty empty.” Arcee commented as she bumped into a clear glass box. “Relics of Moonbases one and two belong here alongside the Space Bridge.” Orion explained as he turned to watch the two younger boys walk around. 

“Soooo…” Hot Rod whistled as he approached Orion, waltzing over. “Whatttt… else is there to see besides old relics?”

“Our last stop is our archives and script briefing. Of course, our purpose here in the Cybertronian History department as well.” Orion smiled sweetly. Arcee ran back over with a pamphlet in her servo, opening it up as Orion guided them back into the main Archives.

Hot Rod leaned over to see what Arcee was reading—but then groaned in boredom because cool bots don’t read.

“You will have a set script to follow when you’re with me, though do feel to add humor and deviate from it slightly. Just make sure you keep the information the same.” Orion chirped, “I’ve got it all prepared for you two!”

“Do we have anything else to do besides show people the museum?” Asked Hot Rod as they reached the door to the main building. He picked up a piece of debris on his arm then flicked it away. “Relic hunting, then… if adventure is up your alley.” Answered Orion. He placed a servo on the security pad, which unlocked the door.

“Relic… hunting?” Hot Rod raised an optic ridge. He ran over to Orion again, quick to catch up behind Arcee. “What’s special about that?” 

“Relic hunting is more than just dusting off a few old stones and analyzing it as history. Relic hunting includes thrill, adventure—and risk… if that is what you crave.” Orion smiled.

The musty waft of dust passed through Hot Rod’s vents, optics widening with surprise. “Frag yeah.” His grin widened on his face plate, “when’s the next one?”

Orion replied, “In a couple of cycles. However, Ratchet and Drift are currently on a hunt on one of the moons…”

Elsewhere, Lunar 2

“Primus, Ratchet.” Drift’s voice trailed off as he shoved a piece of rubble away. “Look at this.”

“What?” Ratchet approached Drift, pedes stomping against the stone floor. His optics widened at the sight—a broken stasis pod. “What… the frag.”

—

His optics followed the twin moons as it slowly faded from view, Cybertron’s skies suddenly becoming clear and filled with stars that seemed to twinkle.

He smiled as warmth flooded his body, a feeling tugging at his spark.

The skies were clear today in Cybertron.

Chapter Text

The skies were clear today in Cybertron.

Cybertronian skies were always beautiful to Starscream, a gorgeous hue of purples and blues. Of course, he would never admit that he always loved admiring how pretty it could get.

Somedays–Starscream thought–he'd wish a couple of bots would sit down for a moment to stare at the sky. 

He stared at the floor, the metal shiny enough for his reflection to show up clearly. Starscream’s blue optics twinkled beneath the skies of Cybertron. A smile crept onto his face plate, noticing how it so nicely complemented the rest of the landscape.

Glancing up, he leaned back.

He wondered how Jetfire was doing, how he was faring out in space, exploring the vast universe and visiting other planets. His friend claimed it was a scientific expedition–... but Starscream didn’t quite believe that.

And Starscream would be lying if he said he didn’t envy his friend a little. Instead, he was stuck on Cybertron to deal with reports of the current inventions for the gruelling war. He’d rather be out on another planet, exploring other technology or environments, living peacefully.

Oh, how sometimes he envied other life forms. (And how he envied Jetfire).

Yet, as he thought to himself, the clear skies of Cybertron soon turned a deep orange. The air was suddenly filled with ash, and the ground he sat on was stained with dry energon. Starscream’s optics widened with panic as he lifted his servos after feeling a wet substance staining them.

Energon pooled into his servos, drops filling until it overfilled through his digits.

His spark clenched. Energon continued to pool, though not from the sky anymore. Starscream felt a sharp stab just into his spark, intake opening silently. 

ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.

His optics trailed towards the sharp object wedged through his chestplate—

“Don’t touch me!” Starscream shouted as he sat up, servos resting against his cockpit. His optics remained wide open, with furrowed ridges.

“Hep-hep-hep! Lie back down. You’re in no condition to be up and about, Starscream.” A voice told him all of a sudden as he was (not-so) gently laid back down onto the berth. “You—....” Starscream choked, servos reaching out to grasp the other bot’s wrist—but was unable to as a sudden surge of electricity pulsed through his wires.

“I told you so. Your systems aren’t stable yet, and for whatever reason, you have a less-than-optimal amount of Energon in your system. It’s causing you to have a massive shock throughout the rest of your body.” The bot said as he moved away to grab extra tools. “Don’t even understand why Orion…” His grumbling faded into the background noise as Starscream stared at the ceiling.

Where… was he anyway?

“Where am I?” Starscream asked as he turned his helm to look at the other bot.

 “You’re in the medbay.” The other bot said. 

“I can see that, fool.”

“Clearly…”

In the distance, Starscream’s audials picked up the sound of the door opening and closing with a hiss. 

“He’s awake,” The medic said.

“Is that so?” Another voice replied. 

Leaning over, Starscream’s optics made out the colours and shape of what could perhaps be Optimus Prime? 

“How are you feeling?” The red and blue bots questioned. His voice was soft, almost comforting. But it sounded far too immature to be that damned Prime.

“I’m fine,” Starscream remarked. “Help me up, won’t you? Lying down like this is humiliating.” 

“I still need to stabilize your systems,” The medic explained, “Orion, would you be so kind as to grab an Energon patch?”

“Of course,” Orion’s voice trailed off again. “Is it this one?”

“Yes. Hand it here,”

“Here you go.”

Starscream felt something cold touch the side of his arm. A small hiss escaped his intake. The cold feeling lingered for a moment before fading. 

“Your systems should maintain homeostasis for at least a couple groons with this Energon patch stabilizing you.” The medic said as Starscream began to prop himself up using his servos.

Starscream finally got a good look at all of the bots inside the medbay. One of them—Orion—was hunched over. He had a red chassis, along with a blue helm. Gold specs rested on his enstril as a large grin took over his face plate. 

Moving on, the other bot–the medic–was primarily red and white. Immediately, Starscream could tell that it was Ratchet–that medic from the war. No wonder that medic’s voice sounded so familiar.

“Autobot scums,” Starscream spat as he held his servo to his helm. “When… where did you find me?”

“Drift and I found you on Lunar Two in some stasis pod,” Ratchet said as he moved away from Starscream, his servos hovering over Starscream’s shoulder. 

“Lunar Base two?! Last I checked, I was with…” His intake suddenly clamped shut. He narrowed his optics and gasped, “I was with!” Starscream couldn’t open his intake again the moment he tried to utter her name.

Ratchet and Orion gave Starscream a strange stare as if he’d grown four optics on his face. 

“Are you alright?” Asked Orion.

Starscream growled, “I can’t blasting say her name! Ah, whatever.” He shook his helm. “The last I checked, I was… ah…”

His processor felt all too fuzzy to remember now. He was with her, but… what else? Nothing. 

“You know what? Forget it! I want to know where I am, exactly.” Starscream demanded. 

“You’re in the Cybertronian Archives,” Orion explained as he stepped forward to help Starscream off the berth. “Please take it easy. Your wounds were far too close to your spark chamber. It’s going to require you to be gentle with yourself.”

Starscream grunted at that, pedes touching the floor. “Hmph.” His stature felt awfully wobbly and heavy as he built himself to stand up straight. Honestly, Starscream couldn’t ignore the strange feeling in his chassis. It wasn’t that of fluster or any sappy scrap like that, no. It was… empty. He felt empty, as if his spark wasn’t quite there like it was meant to be.

“Ratchet and I have something to discuss, old friend. I’ll get Hot Rod and Arcee to escort you towards the main area.” Orion held Starscream’s arm to stabilize him. “From there, you can continue to recharge.”

“Don’t show pity towards me, Prime,” Starscream hissed as he jerked his arm away. His optics glared into Orion’s before looking at the doors of the medbay with a soft ‘hmph’.

*******

Outside the Medbay…

“They brought in a Decepticon?” Hot Rod asked. He leaned against the medbay’s door. “... Why? Isn’t he… y’know… evil?”

Arcee looked up from the data pad she was reading. “I mean… the job says Decepticons and Autobots alike are allowed to apply for a job.” Her optics flickered back to the data pad.

“He isn’t really ‘applying’ for a job.” Hot Rod made quotations with his servos before pressing his helm against the medbay’s doors. He tried his hardest to capture any noises or conversations from inside.

“Either way…” Arcee trailed off. 

Hot Rod looked at her and noticed she was invested in whatever contents the data pad held. He huffed and directed his attention back to the medbay. 

He could faintly make out the words of… “Hot Rod and Arcee”... “Escort you”... “Main area”... “Recharge”... oh. Oh. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Absolutely not!

“We have to bring the Decepticon to a recharge station!” Hot Rod suddenly whined loudly as he pushed off the doors. “Arcee, ya hear that? We have to—”

The medbay doors opened with a sharp hiss. The Decepticon stood… well… not tall, per se. More hunched over, in all honesty. The con flicked his large wings as he stared down at Arcee and Hot Rod with blue optics. 

“Hey,” Hot Rod let out a nervous laugh, his servo waving at the con nervously. His optics shifted between Arcee and the con. Arcee had put the data pad away, seemingly just as shocked as Hot Rod. Her intake was slightly ajar.  “I—... I’m Hot Rod, and this is Arcee…”

The con simply grunted as he made his way ahead of them. “Step aside, you fools!”

Arcee stepped away before placing her servos on her hips. “Rude,” She said softly.

Hot Rod groaned inwardly.

*******

Starscream’s servos were being held—much to his dismay. He had nearly fallen a couple of times due to his weak legs. It was so annoying, to be honest. These two kids had to help him out. The great second-in-command of the Decepticons! The—... well. Actually, it was the ex-second-in-command.

 “This is the main area,” Hot Rod gestured to the large room with a servo. The room was… cozier than expected, to say the least. 

In the centre of the large room was a recessed space with a place to sit and a small table. A couple of data pads sat on top of the tabletop. Just across from the common area were windows that spanned across the room.

Cybertron looked… strange to Starscream. Almost unrecognizable. It looked almost calming to him. How appalling was that? The towers had a softer edge to every curve compared to what he had remembered from vorns ago. Instead of dusty old towers or gritty abandoned buildings, each skyscraper was clean and well-maintained. Multiple aerial vehicles flew by, and a couple of cars zoomed below. 

“Iacon looks…” His words were cut off.

“Different?” Arcee tilted her helm as she led him towards the window. “Lumis is so beautiful compared to how it looked when we first ended the war.” 

Lumis… and ending the war? Starscream looked at Arcee with wide optics. “What the frag is a Lumis and… what do you mean by ‘we first ended the war’?” He turned his helm back to the city view.

“The war’s been over since… I ‘unno. Fifty vorns?” Hot Rod replied. 

The Seeker gasped, “Fifty vorns? Are you serious?”

“Not kidding.” 

“...” Starscream nodded.

“Moving on,” Arcee tugged at Starscream’s servo and began to guide him towards the long hall of rooms. “Over here are all of the habisuite’s and… uuuhm. Energon storage unit.”

“This habisuite is mine and Arcee’s!” Hot Rod slid over to the door, arms stretched out defensively. “Yours is over there.” He pointed to the end of the hall with a servo.

“... I wasn’t planning to steal your room,” Starscream said. He found himself in front of a door with the words “STARSCREAM” poorly scrawled on its surface.

Arcee tapped on a screen, and the door hissed open. “It’s cozy in here! Trust me.” She ran inside. “Over here is your berth, a workbench, and… a nice view of Lumis!”

Starscream entered the room, optics locked on the window, but… “There’s nothing there,” Said the Seeker. 

“There’s usually a sign over—” Arcee yelped as a large sign flickered on, illuminating the dark room. “... Here.” She rubbed her optics.

Everything was seemingly perfect, mind for the large sign and cramped space. Starscream could barely move without knocking over something with his wings—actually, that was an exaggeration. But, still!

Starscream groaned loudly, “Ugh. Couldn’t you have given me a nicer room? There’s little to no space in here! And that blasting sign…”

“It was the only room left over. It was that, or you had to room with me, Bumblebee, or Ratchet.” 

“... This is much more preferable, then.” 

“Exactly.” Arcee hummed. “If that’s all, I’m heading off!”

The doors closed behind Arcee, and Starscream was left with silence.

*******

“I still don’t understand why you brought in a Decepticon of all people,” Ratchet said. “Or even agreed to keep him alive.”

The common area was completely dark. Dark except for the lights of the city below. Starscream rubbed a servo against his chassis—a poor attempt at muffling the sparks that kept escaping his cockpit. 

The medbay’s doors were slightly open, which allowed for the conversation the medic and the archivist were having to be audible.

“You’ve seen his conditions, Ratchet. He was close to being one with the All-Spark had it not been for the stasis pod he was enclosed in.” Orion sighed.

“He’s a Decepticon,” Said Ratchet.

“What difference does it make now? The Autobots and Decepticons are viewed as foes of the Luminary. If we can just keep one other bot safe from the clutches of Primordial…”

“I just…” Ratchet faltered. “I don’t trust him.”

“I understand,” Orion replied softly. “I trust that we can guide him to the right path someday.”

Starscream leaned a little closer as he listened to Ratchet grumble something under his vent.

“Opti—... Orion. About the Space Bridge exhibit…” Ratchet’s voice shifted from grumpy to sudden concern.

A space bridge? Starscream thought to himself.

“Yes?” The archivist prompted.

“Why do we have two of them being built in the same room? If both of them power up at once, you know that’s going to turn into a disaster. Whoever’s in that room will be blasted into the shadow realm.” The medic asked. “You know how dangerous it is.”

“I understand your concern about the exhibit, old friend. But please—trust me on this.” Orion pleaded. “I need to bring him back.”

“Why would you want that? Don’t you know all of the pain he’s caused? Besides, the chances of accessing a portal from the physical dimension to the shadow realm are incredibly low.”

“Even so, he’s made great sacrifices for all of our kind once the war ended.”

Starscream leaned closer in hopes of getting a glimpse or even a little bit more clarity about what he was hearing. Instead, the doors opened, and Starscream stumbled forward, landing on his face.

“What are you doing here?” The old medic shouted as he ran over to Starscream.

Orion walked over and helped the Seeker up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m…” Fine. Fine wasn’t the word, actually. His spark chamber had been acting up all of a sudden, and it’d been annoying him to no end. Starscream sighed deeply, “Not fine. My fragging spark chamber has been quite literally sparking!”

Ratchet and Orion placed Starscream on the examination berth gently. The medic laid Starscream down before he began inspection.

The cockpit opened automatically and… it seemed like a mess. At least from what Starscream could decipher from Ratchet’s expression. 

“Everything is crudely placed back together—artificially, that is. How are you even alive?” Ratchet used a servo to tap on the metal, causing Starscream to flinch slightly. 

“I have no idea.” Starscream snapped back with a sharp hiss.

“I need to do surgery to put everything back as it should. But seeing how late it is…” Ratchet looked towards the window outside. “It’s not that urgent at the moment. The sparks are just a malfunction of the spark chamber’s outer shell. We can put it off until the morning.”

Starscream huffed as he sat up. “I hate this,” He growled. The cockpit closed.

“I need to get another Energon patch for you.” The medic moved towards the countertops and opened a couple of drawers. “I don’t have any right here. I think I left some in the storage room. Orion, could you keep an eye on him while I retrieve the patch?”

“Of course,” Orion responded just as Ratchet left the medbay.

There was complete and utter silence for a moment.

Starscream decided to speak up. He wasn’t sure why, but…

“I know who you are,” Starscream blurted out as he turned his helm towards Orion. “You may be fooling everyone around you, but most certainly not me, Prime.”

He spat that last word out.

The archivist turned to Starscream, stared, and then blinked. “So you’ve caught on,” He hesitated. “I didn’t conceal it that well, did I?”

“Not at all. You have that same resolve with leadership and all that sappy scrap.” Starscream said. “Easy to see through—for me, at least. You’re no good at deceiving a Decepticon.”

Orion chuckled softly as he rested a servo on the examination berth. “You’re right.”

The conversation fell flat again.

Orion then said, “As much as I am glad you’ve figured out my identity rather fast, I would rather you keep it a secret from the younger scouts. Please call me Orion in front of them.”

“Of course. But why? Why deceive your own Autobot kind?” Starscream asked.

“They do not need to be burdened by the true knowledge of the war. Any information I’ve given to the scouts has been false accounts at the moment. I’ve given bits of true information here and there, but not nearly enough to piece together the real events of the war.” Orion explained. “I wish not to put them in any more danger than they are already in. If the Luminary finds out that more bots know of the truth, the harsher the methods of silencing them are.”

Starscream touched the broken glass of his cockpit. “I…” The sudden memory of being stabbed by a sharp and electric spear flashed up in his processor. The thought of it made him shiver.

Why had he gotten stabbed in the first place? From Megatron? No, not exactly. Megatron never had a cyan weapon before. Soundwave? Never weld a spear. Shockwave? Preferred guns.

Then… what?

He couldn’t remember.

Ratchet returned to the medbay with a couple of fresh Energon patches in his servo. “I need to put a fresh one for you as I previously mentioned.” He put the patches on the counter and then moved to rip off the old one.

Starscream hissed from the pain, “Couldn’t you be more gentle? You’re a medic!”

“Too bad,” Ratchet placed a new one on, the coldness of it calming Starscream down.

“Medbay’s closed. Close the doors once you’ve left.” The medic left urgently.

“Have a good night, Starscream.” The Prime said as he left the medbay.

“Good night, Prime,” Starscream replied quietly.

*******

As Starscream made his way down the long hall, he looked out the window.

The skies were clear tonight in Lumis.