Chapter Text
Bumblebee exvented as the doors to the brig slid open. The sound of his pedes clicking against the metal floor of the base echoed down the long empty hallway. In his servos was Starscream’s ration for the cycle, which Bee hoped he’d actually consume this time.
“Hey.” He said awkwardly, setting the cube onto the tray and sliding it across so Starscream could retrieve it. The seeker eyed him, optical ridge raised and faceplate bearing an an expression that mixed confusion and mild disgust. Note to future self: ‘hey’ was too casual an introduction.
Starscream slinked over to the front of the cell, staring at the cube before snatching it. Thankfully, he quickly downed it.
“I talked to Ratchet about increasing your rations.” He hadn’t, but Starscream wouldn’t know that.
“And? Is he still content to let me starve?” Starscream spat, irritatedly flicking his wings.
“Well we only have so much energon, but he didn’t flat out tell me no. I think you might stand a fighting chance.” Bee joked. Starscream didn’t seem to care. Instead he slammed the tray back across to the exterior side, which was enough of a message to Bee. Fine. Starscream wasn’t in a talking mood, so what? Befriending him, or rather deceiving him into friendship wasn’t going to happen overnight. This was going to take time, careful advances on Bee’s part. He’d need to start being meticulous, careful, he couldn’t give away that—
“Datapad.”
“What?” Bee turned his helm, his blue optics staring at Starscream like a deer caught in headlights.
“I’d like a datapad.” Starscream growled, baring his denta in irritation for having to repeat himself. “It is excruciatingly boring down here. You autobots are so keen to point out your ‘moral superiority’ yet you barely feed your lone prisoner and leave me with no way to mentally stimulate myself. Unless I’m expected to start self destruction to entertain myself? I’m sure some of your colleagues would look forward to that.”
“I don’t think you’re approved to use datapads.” Bee said with a frown, particularly deflating at the ‘self destruction’ part.
“Approved!?” Starscream hissed, glaring at Bee incredulously. “What am I? A sparkling?”
“No! We just…” Bee sputtered, trying to come up with something to say. “We don’t have any to spare.”
Starscream stared blankly, a slight frown on his faceplate.
“You are a terrible liar.” He said as he turned away, walking to the back corner of his cell and dramatically throwing himself onto the berth.
“I’m not-!”
“Aren’t you a part of special ops? Surely Jazz has taught you something about lying? Or is it because you’re prime’s little golden-boy? That’s it, isn’t it. Feigning moral superiority isn’t a good look, Bug.” His tone got meaner with each word, Bee was pretty sure Starscream had started smiling halfway through. And then there was Bee, who was falling for all of this. He hadn’t noticed how worked up he’d gotten until Starscream finally stopped talking and he realized his servos were clenched into fists.
“Shut up, Starscream.” He growled out, turning himself around so he didn’t have to look at the mech. He heard the seeker let out a satisfied ‘hmph’ once he’d looked away. What an aft.
For a while the shift continued quietly. Starscream kept to himself, Bumblebee refused to look at him, and neither of them were speaking to each other. Not exactly great progress on befriending Starscream, but it wasn’t Bee’s fault that he was so damned insufferable. Insufferable and mean. Terrible combination in Bumblebee’s opinion, how a mech like that managed to get anywhere in life was beyond him.
Did Starscream get anywhere in life? Before the war, that is. Bee frowned as the realization dawned on him: he didn’t really know anything about Starscream’s life. Did anyone?
“What are you doing?” Bee nearly jumped as he heard Starscream’s voice from across the room.
“What?”
“You think very loudly, did you know that?” Starscream grumbled, pinching his nasal ridge between his digits as if he were developing a helmache.
“You telepathic or something?” Bee scoffed, reluctantly looking over his shoulder at the other.
“No, but when you think I’m not looking you make no effort to hide any of your emotions. It’s entertaining, really, watching every thought go through your processor.” Starscream explained cooly, now propping himself up on his elbow.
“You’re watching me?”
“Always, not like there’s much else to look at around here.” Starscream said with the roll of his optics. Bumblebee smirked.
“Sheesh Screamer, I hope you like what you see.” Bee purred, rolling his hips just to flash the other mech a nice view of his aft. “If I’d known you spent my entire shift down here checking me out, I might’ve put some polish on.” Bee said smugly, slag-eating grin plastered onto his faceplate. The seeker’s jaw dropped as he stared incredulously at the scout.
Mortification, disgust, and several other emotions Starscream refused to identify out of fear they might not be entirely negative crashed through him. The audacity of this bug. For several moments Starscream could not even form a single word, the sounds getting caught within his vocal components and coming out as little more than garbled nonsense. It took a full reboot of his vocalizer to finally be able to eke out a complete thought.
“You’re revolting.” He hissed, wings flicking behind him as he rolled over to stare directly at the wall instead. Bee felt his ego swell.
“I aim to please.”
— — —
Bumblebee and Cliffjumper’s shared habsuite wasn’t particularly large, or fancy. Regardless, they’d managed to make it their own. The room was mirrored down the middle, their berths were pressed up against opposing walls, and up against the far wall were two identical desks each with their own small bit of storage.
Ironically, Bee considered himself fairly lucky that he did not have much (or any) belongings before the war. He couldn’t imagine having to pick through everything you owned and narrow it down to whatever could be fit into a modestly sized cabinet, or maybe shoved under the berth.
The bot sighed as he set his datapad on the desk’s surface, taking a seat. Adjacent to him was Cliffjumper, who was lightly recharging in his berth. Fair, since it was far later than Bee usually stayed up.
He started scrolling through the datapad, particularly through all of Starscream’s files—information downloaded onto his datapad courtesy of Blaster. Most of what was at the top Bumblebee already knew.
Starscream: second in command of the Decepticons and air commander of the Decepticon armada, extremely dangerous.
Approximate Top Speed: Mach 3 (Above Average)
Approximate Kills: Unknown
Combat Preference: Ranged, Aerial,
Weapons: Null rays, Missiles, Megatron,
Bumblebee scrolled past the ‘Physical Description’ category, he certainly knew what the seeker looked like. ‘Recent Battle Activity’ didn’t seem like it’d be much help either. Finally, towards the bottom, was a section labeled ‘Pre-War Activity’. Bee immediately brightened before promptly deflating at the realization it was practically empty.
There is little to no official documentation for this section.
Nothing? Nothing!? Starscream, one of the most recognizable mecha in the entire Decepticon faction and no one knew anything about what he’d been up to before the war? Bee stewed, glaring down at the datapad while irritatedly tapping his digit on the desk. He was not about to let this be a dead end.
“Bee?” A groggy voice came from the other side of the room. Immediately the bot straightened, looking over at his barely awake roommate.
“What’s up? I didn’t wake you did I?” Bee frowned. In the back of his processor he could hear a distinctly gravely and shrill voice telling him he ‘thinks loudly’, whatever that means. As much as he’d hate to admit it, that statement may have more merit than he’d originally thought,
“No—well yeah, but it’s okay.” Cliff said between yawns, casually waving a servo to ease any of Bumblebee’s guilt over waking him up. “What’cha working on?”
Bee looked back at the datapad, optical ridge furrowed in frustration. The lack of information felt like even more of a taunt now.
“I’m trying to dig up information on Starscream—pre war stuff—but there’s nothing.” He said with a frown, further slouching in his chair.
“Nothing?” Cliff questioned skeptically, cocking his helm to the side.
“Nothing!” Bee yelled in frustration as he grabbed the datapad and held it up for Cliffjumper to see. The other squinted, reading the lone sentence on the page.
“No official documentation.” He clarified. “Lots of records got destroyed during the war, doesn’t mean this is a dead end. Why not check his known associates? Surely at least one of them has a known pre-war history?”
“And create a conspiracy board trying to figure out Starscream’s past based on a bunch of pieced together information?” Bee supposed he didn’t have many other options. Cliffjumper only shrugged in response.
Bee could already sense that this whole process was going to give him a helmache. Regardless, he scrolled down until he got to the ‘Known Associations’ category. Unsurprisingly, it was a bunch of Decepticons. Thundercracker, Skywarp, Megatron, Astrotrain, Skyfire—Bumblebee did a double take at the name. Skyfire? As in the Autobot Skyfire?
“Find something?” Cliff asked, lazily watching Bee while trying to stifle another yawn.
“I think so…” Bee’s voice trailed off. “Apparently he and Skyfire were close at some point.”
Upon reading through Skyfire’s file, he found that the shuttle had once been an exobiologist and explorer for the Iacon Academy of Science, that was until a mission gone wrong left him trapped here on earth for a few millennia. Unfortunately, nowhere in Skyfire’s entire file was Starscream mentioned. Bumblebee even word searched it, he was completely missing—not even mentioned under Skyfire’s known associates.
That last part struck the mech as rather odd, a bug maybe? Or an input error? Bee frowned as he stared at the datapad in silence. That conspiracy board was starting to sound less like a joke and more like a reality the longer he sat here.
— — —
Bumblebee peeked his helm into the lab. There hadn’t been an explosion in a concerning amount of time, which had caused Bee to worry the next one might be imminent. Thankfully, it looked like Wheeljack was currently toiling away at reorganizing his entire arsenal of miscellaneous scrap-metal and components. That probably meant Bee was safe from being blown to pieces. Hopefully.
“Hey Jack, is Skyfire in?” He smiled politely, stepping into the lab while being careful to ignore all of the scrap pieces scattered all over the floor.
“Hm? Bumblebee! Oh yes he’s-“
“I’m over here!” Skyfire waved from his section of the lab, the far more ‘sciency’ section of the lab. It also had far fewer scorch marks on the walls in comparison to Wheeljack’s side.
“Want to see bryophyte reproductive structures?” Skyfire asked as he pointed to the microscope he was currently using. He seemed rather excited about it, and Bumblebee would feel rude if he declined.
“Sure!” He said, carefully stepping past Wheeljack’s ‘reorganization’. To be honest, he had no idea what a bryophyte was, but a quick glance over the nearby desk space revealed a human book titled: Evolutionary History of Plants. So…it might be a plant of some kind.
Skyfire pulled up a step stool for Bee to use, as he was way too short to be able to get a good look by himself. This entire corner of the lab had been modified to better fit Skyfire’s size difference, the other corner of the ‘sciency’ part was more normally scaled for Perceptor’s use.
Be stepped up the stool, though still had to stand on the tips of his peds in order to get a good look. At something. He had no idea what he was looking for, or at. Cells? Were these cells?
“The darker ovals are the antheridia.” Skyfire attempted to explain, but still these words meant nothing to the scout. Skyfire could be saying complete gibberish to him and he’d be none the wiser.
“They’re the ‘male’ part.” He furthered. That part Bee understood. He slowly stepped down, looking back up at Skyfire.
“It’s amazing that life on earth can be so small.” He commented, glancing back at the microscope and hoping that a bryophyte (still didn’t know what that was) was actually an earthly organism.
“Isn’t it?” Skyfire smiled brightly, offering the microscope and parting glance before turning his full attention back to Bumblebee. “Enough of that though, what can I help you with?”
Right, the entire reason Bumblebee was here. The bot shifted in his peds a bit, mulling over how to best bring up the complete damper on everyone’s moods: Starscream.
“I’ll just cut to the chase, I need information on Starscream. There’s no official pre-war information of him in our archives and well…I don’t know if it’s an error, but while looking at his files you were listed as a known associate.” Bumblebee sheepishly looked back up at the shuttle. Skyfire’s expression had immediately darkened at the mention of the seeker, more of a reaction than Bee had expected. Notably, Wheeljack had also frozen his organizing, staring over at Bee in mild horror. Scrap.
“I am not getting involved over the politics of Starscream being kept here. I don’t want anything to do with it. If you looked at my file, you’d notice he’s poignantly missing. I want nothing to do with that mech, I have nothing to do with him.” Skyfire spat, his servos were clenched into fists and his frame rigid. For a moment Bee was almost fearful, he’d never known Skyfire to get angry over anything.
“Skyfire I’m sorry—I’m not trying to get you involved in any politics it’s actually for a-“
“I don’t care what it’s for! I’m not getting involved.” He turned away from the mech, immediately busying himself with his collection of slides that sat next to the microscope. “You know where the door is.”
Bumblebee stood there for a moment, intake having fallen open. He quickly reset his vocalizer, and awkwardly shuffled out of the lab. His helm held low, he didn’t even manage to catch the apologetic glance Wheeljack shot him before he was out the door.
Trying not look nearly as pitiful as he felt, Bee puffed out his chest and strode down the halls of the base as casually as he could. So maybe Starscream’s past would remain a dead end for now, but who knows. Maybe something would turn up sooner or later.
— — — — —