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Origins

Summary:

Three Seekers. Three separate lives. They were never likely to meet. Separated by cities and social structure. However, when Vos is at it’s worst, the three most unlikely seekers come together, in a series of events that will change their lives forever.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

(Starscream-Iacon Science Academy)

“The rising rebellion continues.” *skip*

“Newly named the Decepticons.” *skip*

“Iacon security has increased; due to recent threats against territories.” *skip*

“Megatronus must be stopped, no matter the cost!” *skip*

“The rebels are only making the Energon crisis worse!” *skip*

“Rogue rebels have broken into the energy vault and are at large.” *skip*

“If we don’t find new Energon veins soon-”

Starscream turned off the news with annoyance. To his partner, a large, kind shuttle, named Skyfire, he said, “It’s the same old slag! Rebellion this-Megatron that! If only we addressed the Energon crisis in the first place, none of this would be happening!”

Skyfire frowned in a concerned manner, walking over to his friend. Placing his servos on the tense Seeker’s shoulder joint he started to massage them. All of the stress the Seeker was going through only hurt his fragile frame. With so much tension in his frame, it was a miracle Starscream was even able to walk, not to mention fly. As the white shuttle continued to rub his partner’s rigid frame he noticed with worry, just how much worse his friend had gotten.

To try to console Starscream, Skyfire said gently, “I know. Soon it will be solved. We’ll get the grant.”

The tetrajet snorted, “Puh-lease, you know Freezescope only gives grants to his favorites. He hates me!” The hidden words of ‘because I’m a seeker’ floated obviously around the two science students.

Skyfire sighed, what his partner said was the truth. Freezescope, the dean of the Iacon Science Academy, already had a mass prejudice against flyers and war frames. Unfortunately, Starscream was a flight-gifted war frame, or better known in Freezescope’s book as a ‘fragging waste of Energon and enrollment.’

In fact, Skyfire could probably bet that if Starscream didn’t leave out his frame and function off of the enrollment application, he never would have met his best friend.

The shuttle gave a weary smile, “We’ll get it, we have too. I promise.” As a side note, Skyfire added, smirking, “If only because Freezescope wants you out of his faceplates.”

It did the trick, Starscream’s musical laugh filled the dorm. Skyfire smiled happy and relieved now, it was a beautiful sound the white shuttle hadn’t heard in a long time. Ever since they started working towards the grant, 6 Decacycles ago, to be exact.

Starscream’s laughter ended on a soft note. “You’re right,” the Vosnian told his best friend, “We’ll get it.”

Returning to his pre-grant self Starscream asked mock-seriously, returning to his studies, “What did you get for 6 on the Chemistry assignment? It’s the only one I can’t get. I swear it’s impossible!”

This time it was Skyfire who chuckled, as he sat down next to his roommate, “You’re kidding right? Number 10 was way harder!”

The two students found their way into their normal gentle banter and joke during homework routine. The way it was in the old days when there was no energy crisis or talk of an ever going rebellion. Instead, they found comfort and continued through the evening.

 

(Thundercracker-Vosnian Law Academy)

Thundercracker picked up all of his books and was ready to leave class, with the other students, when his professor called him.

“Thundercracker, a word please?” The black and blue instructor asked.

Thundercracker immediately obliged, ignoring the snickers and ‘oohs’ coming from his classmates. Approaching the desk he said, wings flickering down respectfully, “Sir?”

“At ease Thundercracker. You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to talk to you. Take a seat.” Strikeray told his pupil.

The blue Seeker shifted into a more comfortable position. “Of course,” he told his instructor, as he sat down, “What’s going on?”

Strikeray looked intently on the younger Seeker, he ‘hmm’ for a moment, not helping Thundercracker’s worries, before speaking. “Word in the air is that you are looking for a job, any ideas on what you are thinking about?”

Thundercracker’s wings nearly sagged in relief. He didn’t even know he was tensing up, “Oh that! Well, I was thinking something with the Vosnian Enforcers, but being a lawyer sounds pretty interesting too.” The young blue mech spoke honestly.

Strikeray nodded and dipped his own wings in approval. He then asked a question that surprised his pupil, “Have you given any thought to the Royal Guard?”

It was Thundercracker who gave a little spot, “Not really, sir. I mean I’d love to have a job with them, who wouldn’t, but I don’t think they’d ever let me in.”

Thundercracker waited for Strikeray’s response. It was a widely known fact that both the instructor and his trinemates were Royal Guards to the late Winglord Aerostreak, even though most Cybertronians forgot that fact occasionally. Afterall, despite the older black and blue Seeker telling his pupil to be at ease, Thundercracker did not want to upset his mentor.

It was a while before Strikeray spoke again. He considered his words carefully, like always. Addressing Thundercracker he said, “I’d like you to at least apply. As one of the best students in this academy, I think you’d have a pretty good shot.”

Thundercracker nodded in mute shock. He was honored that the old veteran would think that highly of him. Finally finding his voice he said, “O-of course. I’ll get right on it. Thank you, Strikeray.”

The older seeker stood up at that and extended his servo. Thundercracker took it and they shook.

“You may go. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you again!” Thundercracker called, heading out of the classroom and to his dorm. He had a long night of homework and applications to do.

 

(Skywarp(Past)-Vosnian/Tarnian slum line)

A shadow darted out from the alleyway, holding on to her bundle. In the distance, the femme seeker could hear pained shouting behind her, and the scuffling of running pedes.

The seeker knew if she stopped, the enforcers would capture her. Well her and her sparklet. Her black and purple child started to wail, sensing his carrier’s fear. Trying to sooth and silence him she bounced him up and down cooing slightly.

When the sounds of the Enforcers came closer the femme knew there was no running. Quickly she wrote on a scrap piece of metal and hid her sparklet with it.

As the dreaded law mechs finally arrested her for her role in a series of crimes against her master, she was carted off with only one though. ‘Please Primus, let him have a better life.’

In her spark though, she knew her precious child would face many hardships. At least it would be better than being a slave to some sleazy grounder.

 

(Skywarp-Vosnian/Tarnian slum line)

As the small gang ran off, a young black and purple seekerling cackled with delight. “Hah! Take that, slaggers!” He cried out.

The gang leader on the ground commed him angrily ::Skywarp! Knock it off! Do you them to follow us?::

The seekerling subdued a bit, he hated it when his leader was angry at him. He commed back, meekly ::Sorry, sir.::

Breakjaw sighed, it was hard to remember the Seekerling was still a kid and was still learning the way of his gang. Honestly, the grounder should have expected this much, but it was starting to get annoying.

::One more mistake and you are out! Now get your aft down here!:: Breakjaw threatened. He couldn’t risk the others for some seekerling.

Skywarp landed at the rendezvous point, his wings lowered, knowing what was going to happen next. Every failure, or mistake as Breakjaw called it, ended in severe physical punishment. So far he had been punched, flogged, put in fire and acid, thrown off buildings with thrusters disabled, and was shot at. Subconsciously, though it hurt, the black and purple youngling wondered what his punishment was going to be this time.

Today, however, Breakjaw decided to take punishment one step further. Unsheathing his 3 tipped Energon whip, Breakjaw advanced on Skywarp, like a predator on prey.

Pitching forward Breakjaw descended his wrath on the Seekerling. He lashed out at every part of the youngling, especially his aft and precious wings.

“GAH!” Skywarp screamed with each touch of the sparking whip. “Stop! Ahh-help! Please!”

He started to struggle as the blows became even more intense. The precious lifeblood of Cybertronians started to trickle down the Seekerling’s frame. Skywarp’s struggles became so much that Breakjaw ordered him to be restrained. The other gang members obliged not wanting to share the Seekerling’s punishment.

Skywarp froze when other servos came down on his frame. The lashes stopped for a moment. Weakly he wondered if his punishment was over. But of course, it wasn’t. Breakjaw would never let his fun end so quickly.

Indeed, during this time Breakjaw switched out his whip for his more preferred weapon. A sinister device that Skywarp met quite often, but never could rid himself of the pain. In the grounder’s servo was a spiked iron staff. Behind Breakjaw’s back, everyone called it a very ugly spiked club. Obviously, though they wouldn’t share that knowledge with Breakjaw, who viewed it as the perfect tool.

Swinging hard, Breakjaw brought the weapon onto Skywarp’s exposed back. The Seekerling’s screams filled the airspace once more. They were so ragged and pained that more than one member of the gang winced.

It was breems before the punishment stopped. Through it, all Breakjaw continued to switch weapons so the kid never got too comfortable. Only two things came out of it. An injured Seekerling and the confirmation that no one in Breakjaw’s gang would dare disobey orders again.

Hiccuping as he stood up, tears streamed down Skywarp’s face. Without a glance in his direction, Breakjaw strode menacingly inside the gang’s headquarters. The other members slowly trickled inside after him, a few dragging their youngest member in.

In the base, stood a short, pale Praxian femme named Ember. The poor femme had the unfortunate luck to be the bondmate of Breakjaw. Every now and then she would tell Skywarp, how Breakjaw used to be a different mech, a kinder mech. It was hard for the youngling to believe her because ever since they found him and took him in Breakjaw was never like his rumored former self. The Energon Crisis, she said, took a large toll out of everyone, except the wealthy.

Ember frowned as she watched her husband stride in angrily. “What happened?” She asked softly, drying her servos on a tattered, worn dishrag. Unlike the wealthy citizens of Iacon or Praxus or Vos, who had drones to do such menial work, Ember was forced to do it herself. Day in and day out. A very hard task considering the mess the base always seemed to be in.

Breakjaw only grunted, “Ask your son.” With that, he marched into their shared room and slammed the door.

Ember turned around as she saw Skywarp being dragged in. Frame dented and covered with Energon, he was not a pleasant sight. The Praxian femme covered her mouth in shock, “Primus! What happened?” She cried running over to her adopted son.

Skywarp smiled faintly, “Heh, hey carrier.” Before losing consciousness.

Ember whirled around to Sidepunch, the only other Praxian member of the gang. “Set him over there.” She pointed at the pile of boxes they used for a medical berth, “What happened?”

Sidepunch did as he was told, with only a slight roll of his optics Like all members of the gang he genuinely liked the femme, respected her even, and would never disobey her unless ordered otherwise by Breakjaw. “The kiddo triggered the alarm. Almost got us caught. ‘Jaw didn’t take kindly to that.”

Ember sagged, of course, that would be what happened. “Alright. Fetch me that rag will you? Let’s get him cleaned up.”

Sidepunch obliged. He didn’t really like the young seekerling, but he knew it was wrong of Breakjaw to treat him like that. The kid went through a lot of hardship after being abandoned, he deserved a little more love. Then again, without Ember’s insistence, Skywarp wouldn’t even have this much. He started to wonder if it was better off like that.

 

(Starscream-Iacon Science Academy)

The two students worked until night. It may have been nearing the end of the semester, but that was no time for slacking. Afterall, if they wanted a better chance at their grant they needed to be at the top of their classes to be able to go. Packing up their books and assignments for the next day Starscream asked, “What do you think of that gladiator?”

Skyfire frowned thinking for a moment. It seemed that besides the crisis, the news was solely focused on a potential rebellion between the lower class, specifically the war frames. It was launched by who was it again? Magnatron? Mega-bot? Gladius? Skyfire gave up. “The Tarnian gladiator?”

The Seeker nodded, “Yeah, his designation is Megatronus.”

‘Oh that’s it!’ Skyfire exclaimed in his helm. Externally he shrugged, “I guess he’s fine. Peace would be nice. Not really sure if I agree with his methods, however.”

The white Seeker’s wings dipped a little, “Yeah…”

Skyfire noticed the wings and tone of his friends voice immediately. “You’re not thinking of…” ‘joining them’ was the part the shuttle trailed off at. He couldn’t imagine his kind and caring partner siding with those ruffians.

The tetrajet perked up, and cried out hastily “What? No! Of course not!” He paused for a moment, shyly he added, “Well, maybe. I’ll have to if the Winglord decrees it, which is probably likely. I agree with many of his ideas anyway, it’s about time someone’s tried to give us war frames equal rights.”

Though they were not intended to, the red and white Vosnian’s words stung briefly. Of course, it’s about that, Skyfire thought. In a way, he understood what his friend was saying, but it still shocked him. As a war frame, Starscream, Megatronus, and so many others were oppressed to the corrupt caste system, a reason for the current riots. Such rights that Skyfire grew up knowing that they were his, were an impossible dream for many at the lowest tier. Some such as Starscream were able to overcome that, but many still were left to die in the gutter. It was honestly no wonder that Starscream took a liking to the gladiator’s call for reform.

Skyfire sighed, “You’re right, Star. I’m sorry.”

The seeker shrugged coming back over to his partner, “It’s fine, I’ve got a long time to worry about it before I do something.”

Skyfire knew that wasn’t really the case, but didn’t press it. He glanced at his chronometer to check the time. “It’s late, we should probably be recharging.”

Meanwhile, Starscream had plopped himself down on the couch and pulled out a regular reading pad. He waved off in acknowledgment, “You go ahead. I’m going to finish this chapter if it offlines me. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Skyfire registered the words and nodded, “Alright, I’ll keep the lights on for you. Don’t stay up too late, we have that Engineering presentation tomorrow.”

Starscream snorted, “Only for you, carrier.”

The white shuttle chuckled at the sentence, as he proceeded to enter their shared berthroom. Everything was going to be alright for them.

 

(Thundercracker-Vosnian Law Academy)

In another dormitory across from Iacon, sat another seeker on the couch. The normally bright illumination was lowered to a dim glow so it didn’t disturb any of the other students trying to sleep.

Laptop in lap, the blue Seeker started to fill out his application for the Royal Guard. He already had sent a similar one to the local law firms and enforcer stations.

Most of the questions were easy enough. Designation, age, frame, city, and all the other normal questions. The second section is where it differed from the normal processes. It gave an aptitude questionnaire to figure out what position, if any, would be the best fit for a candidate. It wasn’t really hard perse but it definitely gave Thundercracker a better view of himself.

The tall blue Seeker worked on the application for a little longer. The Vosnian Royal Guard was a special elite group that served directly under the Winglord. They rarely accepted new members but if a former Guard told you might be good enough, that mecha was near guaranteed to get some spot in the unit.

By the end of the process, Thundercracker was full of dreams of what he might become. A Tactical Officer? A primary guard? Training specialist? Perhaps something with the court. Oh, the opportunities were endless if one could get in!

The mech stopped dreaming at that thought. He’d have to get in first, and with Strikeray’s approval or disapproval, he would still have to go through the same rigorous processes as everyone else. Unlike most jobs that had an application and an interview, flyers applying for this position were subjected to physical and mental training, background checks, surprise inspections, knowledge checks, instructor reports, on top of the normal application stages.

But Strikeray had faith in him, so Thundercracker did too. One way or another he’d be able to do this new, previously unexplored dream.

 

(Skywarp-Vosian/Tarnian slum line)

Joors after he was healed by Ember, Skywarp was up and about. Just in time, he had evening Energon with the rest of the gang, while staying as unnoticeable as possible from Breakjaw.

It was during dinner that Skywarp thought of today’s events and that of other times. As he slowly sipped his energon, the seekerling came to a conclusion. He decided that once the rest of the gang was in recharge, he would leave, and they would never see his faceplates again.

In the back of his mind, the black and purple youngling though of how that would affect Ember. He loved his adopted carrier, the only person in the world that actually cared about him, and the only one who would care if he left.

Well...that wasn’t entirely true. Breakjaw would care too, only because he wouldn’t have a good distractor for his crimes anymore. In fact, that was probably the reason Breakjaw kept the youngling around for as long as he did. He just needed someone ‘cute’ and ‘innocent’ to distract the Vosnian guards, while the gang committed a crime. That and the kid knew where all of the stolen stuff was, and he could easily report it to authorities.

By now the gang, besides the black and purple Seekerling had fallen into recharge. Now was his chance, Skywarp thought as he crept across the floor, as quietly as possible. He gathered up a few small energon rations and a few credits. Knowing that the world was tough and cruel, Skywarp also grabbed a few small weapons for the road.

As he reached the door to the outside world, and his freedom, the Seekerling decided to do one more thing. He grabbed a data pad and scrawled what he hoped said ‘thank you’ to Ember. Afterall, growing up in the slums never allowed for a good education. They had to fend for themselves with such luxuries. As such many mechas didn’t end up even attempting with it, which is why Skywarp knew the short note would at least show gratitude for his caretaker.

He placed the data pad on the table, where it would be easily seen. Then the Seekerling made his way out into the shadows. Alone in the night once more.

(The Next Morning)

Skywarp had a habit of finding trouble, Breakjaw always said. Indeed, barely less than a few cycles into the kid’s solo-life, he found himself running from an enforcer patrol.

After traveling to one of Vos’s wealthier districts, Skywarp found himself angry about how some mecha could be so snotty and rude while having so much, while he struggled with pretty much nothing. Originally, Skywarp probably would have left the rich youngling alone if not for one comment.

“What was Primus thinking when he made a disgusting creature like it?” The brat asked an older Seeker, undoubtedly his creator. The older mech either didn’t hear or care as he walked away from his creation and started up a conversation with another opulent mech.

Skywarp wings rose. He snarled, baring his denta at the other Seekerling. The verbal abuse had lasted for a few breems now, and with the silver youngling’s creator distracted it was time to act.

Using his thrusters, he had more control than others of his age because of his constant escapes from the law, Skywarp lunged at the kid. Taking out a blade, he noticed with amusement it was the first time the blade was being used on someone other than him, he held it over the other’s exposed neck cables. “Not a sound.”

The spoiled, silver Seeker youngling looked fearful and had tears already forming in his optics. Even though he wanted to scream, he only nodded mutely, optics staring at the blade.

“Why’d ya say that? Not everybot’s as lucky as ya, slagging scraphead. Maybe ya will think ‘fore you speak next time” He paused considering, “If I don’t just cut out your voice box .” Skywarp said threateningly, starting to press down with the knife. He loomed over the other youngling, who cringed back.

Almost instantly Skywarp released the applied pressure. He gave a sickly sweet grin, having mastered the art of it at an early age, “‘Course, I don’t gotta wreck ya fragile voice box. That is if ya give me what I want.”

Skywarp’s victim gasped for air. “O-Of course! I-I-I’ll do anything! Please spare me!”

The black and purple bot grunted, “Weakling. Give me your money.”

The rich youngling fumbled in his subspace, finally pulling out a bag full of credits. “H-here! Take it! Don’t kill me!”

The nano-click Skywarp grabbed the bag of credits, the bot’s creator turned around and saw the situation. “Guards! Stop that Seekerling!” He bellowed the soldiers nearby obeying his command immediately.

Then Skywarp ran. Sure he could use his thrusters but they were still weak and took up too much energy. He’d be exhausted and caught in breems if he used them. So he continued running.

All seemed to be going well until he hit a dead end in one of the alleys. Seeker Enforcers flew overhead, barricading the open end trapped the Seekerling in.

Turning around with his servos in the position of surrender. Skywarp flashed a nervous grin. He tried to channel his inner charm and innocence, “Now, now guys, I’m sure this is all a BIG misunderstanding.”

It seemed the guards did not have the same level of sureness, as they shot the black mechling with a tranquilizer. Skywarp’s last sight before the world faded to black was the sight of the Enforcers closing in.

Chapter 2: Of Grants and Grads

Chapter Text

(Skywarp-Iacon)

Skywarp woke up from his forced stasis halfway on the transport for the International Max-Security prison. Typically younglings were only taken to city-state jails for committing only the most critical crimes. All other offenses were treated by giving the kid some fine or community service, or a slight district judicial punishment. Usually, basic robbery and assault would just get the unlucky youngling a fine plus interest with the money they stole and or 50 joors of community service. Unfortunately for Skywarp, the caste that the other youngling was high enough to make him eligible for Vos’s state prison.

So that’s where the Enforcers had taken the black and purple Seekerling originally. Upon arrival, however, the receptionist got a DNA sample and was able to connect Skywarp to a series of Energon crimes and other assaults in Kaon, Tarn, Kalis, and Polyhex, just to name a few. Considering the fact that Skywarp was on the wanted list in many city-states besides Vos, the Enforcers were required by law to take the kid to the International Prison. However, many of the Enforcers felt pretty bad about taking a kid as young as Skywarp to a Max-Security prison. They quickly got over that feeling of compunction by the extra rewards that the affected city-states gave them, for catching the international criminal.

During this time, incidentally, all of the Enforcers forgot to give the young bot a second shot of a tranquilizer to keep him unconscious until they reached the destination.

Skywarp sat up with a moan and a groggy helm. His body felt sore, almost like he received one of Breakjaw’s beatings. “Augh… Primus, where am I?”

“You're on transport, kid. One way stop to Iacon.” A guard said gruffly.

Skywarp thought blankly for a minute. Iacon? Why the fragging slag were they taking him to Iacon? Then the answer crashed down on him; the flyer’s optics widened in horror and realization. The Max-Security Prison. He was caught, they were taking him to jail.

The mechling shot up, this was not good. He tore at his restraints on his wrists and wings. “Slag! Lemme go! Ya can’t do this to me!”

The Enforcers accompanying him in the shuttle transport shared a rueful laugh at the Seekerling’s attempts to break free. The same one who spoke before said, “Sorry kiddo. No can do. Should’ve thought about it before you committed those crimes.”

Skywarp pretended he didn’t hear the older seeker. He continued with his futile attempts to break free. As he did so he tried to ignore the pitying stares of his capturers. He didn’t need their pity! If they only understood what it was like to live in the gutters, they’d probably be on their way to the International jail too!

When the shuttle was nearly there Skywarp tried for one more plea. “Please! Help me! I’ll do anything!”

The head enforcer shook his helm, “Tough luck, kid. Time to go.”

With the second line, their leader said, two of his subordinates grabbed the black and purple Seekerling and started to cart him off. Throughout the entire way, Skywarp kicked, screamed, and fought harder and louder than he ever did before.

 

(Starscream-Iacon Science Academy)

Starscream woke up on the couch with a yawn. Feeling a sharp pain in his side the seeker pulled out the datapad he was reading the night before. It was about an alien flyer who challenged a corrupt society and changed the world. It was written in a way that the seeker reading it felt a vibe of connection to the protagonist.

The seeker looked around the apartment until he met his partner’s optics. Starscream smiled sheepishly remembering the night before, “Hey Sky.”

The larger shuttle sighed. It was just like his friend to stay up all night until he passed out. He frowned slightly, “I thought you were going to recharge after that chapter.”

“I was!” Starscream protested, “But then the real action began and I just had to keep going!”

Skyfire just chuckled, he knew that feeling himself. Besides his partner had been way too stressed lately about that grant, he deserved that pleasant break the book provided. “Must be a pretty good story then.”

The wings on Starscream’s back fluttered, “Ooh, it’s incredible, sometimes I can see me in the protagonist’s place.”

Amused, Skyfire made his way over to the Energon dispenser and filled up two cubes. He walked back over and joined his partner on the couch, “Interesting, maybe I’ll check it out sometime. Say did you get the message last night?”

With a confused look, Starscream took a look at his message log. His optics widened with wonder when he saw the one his friend referred to. “A second presentation during this week…They are considering our proposal!”

Skyfire beamed at his friend's happiness. The notification of their advancement to the second stage came late last night and both the flyers were ecstatic.

In his joy, Starscream leaped on his best friend and enveloped him in a hug. “We got it, we got it!” The tetrajet exclaimed, optics filling up with energon tears.

For his part, Skyfire hugged back fiercely. They held the embrace for a few minutes, before breaking away both looking away, embarrassed. It was a while before the awkward silence was broken. It was Skyfire who broke it, “So, uh, engineering presentation today, are you ready?”

Starscream looked back, his optics still holding their tears of joy, “Hmm? Oh, yes. What about you?”

The larger mech simply nodded. Attempting to lighten the awkward, but excited, mood he commented, “Well, I hope so at least. Engineering is not my forte.”

His friend laughed, “At least, your partner doesn’t explode everything he touches.” The seeker shuttered and pulled a confused, slightly amazed face, “I don’t even know how ‘Jack does it anymore.”

Skyfire chuckled at Starscream’s commentary. He nudged the other mech, “Come on. Presentations wait for no mech.”

Starscream sighed, “That they don’t. I just hope Jack didn’t break the thing again. He said he wanted to ‘fix’ something.” With that said the two flyers went out to believing they were starting their typical day. Neither of them had any clue how wrong they were, or how much their lives were about to change.

 

(Thundercracker-Vosnian Law Academy)

Oblivious to what was about what was happening in two different parts of Iacon, Thundercracker was in a good mood. His day was off to a great start. In just a few joors the graduation ceremony would commence, and Thundercracker was alerted to the fact he would be leaving the school with some of the highest honors. Many of his friends had invited him to their last night parties and social events, and he was excited for the chance to hang out with them without the thought of the future hanging over them all. Then as if to top it off Strikeray’s beaming faceplates as he walked into the room, were practically assured to have good news.

After their final class, Strikeray once again called Thundercracker over to him. Sensing his friends paused in the doorway, the blue Seeker waved them off saying, “You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up in a bit.” The group nodded and left, leaving only Thundercracker and his teacher in the room.

The older mech gestured for his pupil to take a seat. The younger seeker didn’t have to be given a cue, having done this multiple times in the past, Thundercracker was already on his way.

Before the blue mech could talk, Strikeray beat him to it, “Read this.” The old Guard stated passing his student a datapad.

Thundercracker picked it up, not really sure what it was for. With so much going on in the cycles leading up to his graduation, it could have been anything.

Turning on the datapad, Thundercracker wanted to slap his servo on his faceplates. How could he be so stupid? Of course, this was the only thing that would put his instructor in such a good mood. As he was thinking the undeniable emblem of the Vosnian Royal Guard shone in his faceplates.

This was it. The moment of truth, he thought. With a swipe of his digit, Thundercracker scrolled down to the start of the address. Right here and now, the following words were about to determine his destiny. The blue Seeker had no idea why he was so nervous, he already received many acceptances and denials to a multitude of other places he applied to. What made this so different? He answered the question in his helm because this was the most elite group in Vos’s decision on him.

He noted that while many applied to get in with them, barely a servoful were ever chosen at any given time. Even with Strikeray supporting him, publicly vouching for him to the Captain no less, Thundercracker knew even his odds were slim. Slightly larger than most but still very, very small.

Thundercracker glanced up at his teacher, attempting to glean information, but the other seeker was as revealing of his thoughts as a rock.
With that option closed, he turned his optics back to the datapad. Taking a deep intake, Thundercracker finally read the contents of the datapad.

‘To: Seeker Thundercracker of Vos

We thank you for applying for a position on the Vosnian Royal Guard-’

Oh no, here it comes; Thundercracker thought. His spark filled with dread. Any fool would have known he was about to be denied.

‘We are pleased to inform you that you have successfully entered our ranks. You begin at 08:00, sharply, in two orns, for training. Welcome aboard recruit.

Captain Jetblade
Captain of the Vosnian Royal Guard’

Thundercracker’s spark rose again. His wings perked in elated surprise. He had thought that with the initial sentence they would just decline him.

Meanwhile, Strikeray got impatient. “Well?” He asked his student, who was looking at him with shocked optics. “Go on.”

“I...They accepted me. I’m going to be a Guard.”

Strikeray was silent for a moment. Then he slapped the table, standing up. The action startled Thundercracker who immediately jumped up into the perfect position of attention.

The older mech moved over and he embraced his star student, faceplates grinning, and lubricant threatening to spill out of his optics. “I’m so proud of you kid! I knew you could do it!”

“T-thank you, sir.” Thundercracker breathed out, having small trouble speaking with the squeezing pressure of his instructor.

Strikeray released his public and pushed him to the door, “Now go get ready for graduation.”

 

(Skywarp-Iacon International Prison)

It was breems after they had thrown Skywarp into his cell that he calmed down. Here was once a screaming, thrashing Seekerling, was now a glaring Vosnian of doom.

Skywarp’s wings were raised, giving a glare that promised pain if anyone came near him. Scattered in a loose circle across the large cell, the Seekerling received many similar looks back. Skywarp refused to talk, not that anyone really wanted him to, he contented himself with noting any escape points from the prison.

Unfortunately, with all the thrashing he did coming into the place, the black Seekerling did not recall any of the many, many turns the guards took him on.

As he was pondering this the guards came along to pass out Energon rations to the prisons. The Seekerling looked at the cube with disgust and annoyance. The cube was easily double the scraps Breakjaw’s gang was able to get. That fact especially irked the flyer. Here were the actual criminals, murderers, and kidnappers, and they got better treatment than free mechs did!

Taking a sip of the cube that was placed in front of him, Skywarp instantly found out why. He spat it out immediately. That couldn’t be energon! It was so bland and lacking nutrients that it was unpalatable.

‘No one could survive on this!’ Skywarp thought. Even the unrefined scraps of the lowest-grade energon around could easily top this slag. For the first time in his life, he actually missed the foul, repulsing taste of the gutter energon he grew up with.

Catching sight of one of the grounder guards smirking cruelly at him, the youngling picked up the cube and guzzled it down, as if it were the greatest drink on Cybertron. Skywarp knew the guards would disrepute him, but Skywarp secretly vowed not to let them enervate him. In turn, the young Vosnian gave a triumphant sneer back.

The guard looked away, he had better things to do than silently challenge a seeker child. Unfortunately, for him, Skywarp had more entertaining things to do than stare at a wall. The black and purple seekerling finally opened his mouth and sang.

“100 bottles of ‘gon on the shelf! 100 bottles ‘gon! Take one down, guzzle it down, 99 bottles of ‘gon on the shelf! 99 bottles of ‘gon on the shelf—-”

 

(Starscream-Iacon Science Academy)

Starscream stood in front of the room with Wheeljack, their project on the desk before them. Through some Primus given miracle, the white, red, and green grounder managed not to make the fragile device explode. Considering the technology used in its design, more bots than Starscream were happy with that result.

By now the Seeker was well underway explaining what the purpose of the device was. In the current time period, Cybertronian scientists were experimenting with highly volatile substances to subdue criminals. Unfortunately, most of that weaponry was the cause of a lot of prisoner deaths before trials, interrogations, and investigations could be completed or even started. As such, pressure was on the scientific community to find alternate methods.

“-similar to a forced medical stasis, the function of our device is to temporarily freeze a Cybertronian, creating a paralytic effect. With this our Enforcers-”

As the flier was talking, a secretary burst into the Engineering classroom. Helms swiveled around to stare at the new arrival.

The instructor looked at his colleague, “Can I help you?”

“Freezescope requested that the students Skyfire and Starscream report to his office.” The mech said as if that was obvious.

“Starscream is giving a presentation. Can it wait?”

“Freezescope said it was urgent. So no.”

The Seeker’s optic ridge furrowed in confusion. He did not remember doing anything wrong. Sparing a glance at his roommate, all the Vosnian got in reply was a shrug.

“Sir?” Starscream inquired, obviously asking for permission.

“Go. But this doesn’t mean your excuse from the presentation. You’ll stay after class or come in early tomorrow to give it to me.” His instructor informed.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Starscream replied.

Skyfire excuses himself from his desk and tramped down the stairs to meet up with his partner. As the secretary was already walking out the two flyers rushed to follow.

::What did you do?:: Skyfire hissed over the comm link. This wouldn’t be the first time Starscream had done something to annoy Freezescope and the shuttle got wrapped into the whole mess.

::Me?:: The Vosnian’s voice was incredulous. ::I didn’t do anything!::

::You always ‘don’t’ do something. If you decided to take over your Aerospace class again…:: Skyfire accused.

::That was ONE time!:: The seeker shot back. It wasn’t his fault that that grounder teacher knew nothing about the subject.

::I don’t believe you. C’mon Star, what happened?:: The shuttle pressed for information. He was not going into Freezescope’s office to be accused as an accomplice of whatever his partner did this time.

::I already told you! I’m innocent! What did you do?!:: If the jet’s voice was any louder it could be heard outside the comms.

::Nothing!::

Having enough with the argument, the dean’s office wasn’t getting any further away, in any case, Skyfire decided to vocalize his thoughts.

“Uh, excuse me?” He politely asked the staff member, “Can you tell us why Freezescope wants to see us?”

The secretary shot an untrusting, fearful glance at Starscream, “I-well usually we aren’t supposed to tell, but erm, I recall something about a pursuit of exploration.”

The seeker’s optics widened in understanding and shock. Like a turbofox in the headlights, he froze muttering, “The grant presentation…”

Skyfire slowed down at the utterance too. “But… but that can’t be today!”

“The date was never specified. We should have known.”

“But we had no time to prepare!” The larger mech protested.

Starscream met his friend's optics. The seeker’s were tinted with stress and anxiety, but his tone was of the stubborn determination that drew Skyfire to the Seeker. “Then we’ll do the best with what we have.”

With that, the Vosnian strode forward shielding his nerves with wings pridefully raised, and a confident expression on his faceplates.

The white shuttle took a moment to gulp and pulled out the datapad, he kept on his frame, about the request for an exploration. Glancing over the information he walked into the dean’s office. Admittedly way less in appearing confident compared to the other flyer.

The shuttle was massively relieved when it was his partner who took the task of introducing their proposal. That relief turned into eternal gratitude once Skyfire discovered they weren’t only giving a surprise presentation to Freezescope, as was expected, but to the entire Iacon Science Academy Executive Counselors’ Board as well as a few of Iacon’s senators.

Primus… that Seeker had guts, the shuttle thought, focusing on his partner and roommate’s words. It was all Skyfire could do to avoid gulping or having a public nervous breakdown.

“Dean Freezescope; Esteemed members of the Iacon Science Council; Honored guests from the Senate. Allow me to introduce myself. My designation is Seeker Starscream of Vos; my colleague is Shuttle Skyfire of Iacon. Today we are honored to present to you our exploration proposal to solve the Energon Crisis.”

The formal introduction had a few Senators and few members of the council looking impressed and interested. It was less in the way of impressment of the jet’s words than the personal, selfish interest of the assembled mecha. The potential scientific accomplishments and political gains that such a proposal could bring were huge.

As for Freezescope, the dean of the Iacon Science Academy’s faceplates was slightly twisted. Obviously, he chose the lack of preparation time to fluster and humiliate the warframe-flyer. Unfortunately for him, if he had bothered to learn anything about the tetrajet, he would have known Starscream performed his best under pressure.

Without the aid of visuals, Starscream seemed to ‘wow’ the assembled crowd. To help the seeker, and to promote his status a partner, Skyfire piggyback of the other mech’s words, adding extra information and analysis.

The breems turned into joors, and by the end of the lengthy presentation, there was little doubt in the shuttle’s processor that they had succeeded in their goal.

The two student scientists were dismissed from the office, as the assembly discussed the pros and cons of the proposal and their final decision. Freezescope had told them to wait outside on the bench, so that’s where Starscream and Skyfire sat in silence.

In a rare moment of public affection, Starscream reached a servo out and squeezed his partner’s. Skyfire flashed a nervous smile back at his friend, giving a squeeze back. They didn’t talk, basking in the silence with the other. There was no need. Both of them knew everything that should have been said was said, and everything that could be done was done. It was out of their hands now.

When the door opened and the council and Senators came out, Starscream shot up like a rocket. Skyfire also got up, slower than his friend, lamenting the fact Starscream had torn apart their joined servos.

Freezescope appeared the front of the pack, a slight scowl only visible to his two students. “Congratulations. You depart on your exploration of planet 9X15-3P in a decacycle.”

Starscream’s wings perked up in excitement but he quelled the feeling in order to look professional. He gave a respectful cant of his wing and inclined his a little bit. “Thank you, sir.”

Freezescope gave a grunt and stalked away before the shuttle could also thank him. Oh well… Skyfire thought as he listened to the praise and questions of members of the Science Council.

A glance over his shoulder informed the large mech that his partner was also still there. Unlike, Skyfire however, the Seeker seemed to stick close to the politicians. Likely sharing his personal views, while he had their esteem.

After a few breems, Skyfire was able to get away from the Council, and he quickly headed in his partner’s direction. The smaller mech was also finishing up his conversation if his words and a handshake were any indications.

“I’m glad we are in agreement Senator Ratbat. It was a pleasure to discuss my concerns with you.” The seeker said, diplomatically.

He always had a way with words, Skyfire noticed. The ability to convince so many to support his own side and beliefs was a trait that benefitted Starscream so many times already.

“The pleasure was mine Starscream. I look forward to our next meeting.” Ratbat inclined his helm in a slight nod, shaking the seeker’s servo.

It was Starscream who released the servo first, noticing Skyfire’s approach. “Until then.”

The tetrajet left the senator then, joining up with his partner. As classes were done for the day, and Starscream’s presentation could wait until tomorrow, the two science students headed back to their shared dorm.

As soon as they were inside, Starscream dropped the confident professional act. Almost the instant their door shut, he whirled around and bear-hugged his partner.

“We did it! We did it!” The red seeker chanted.

The taller mech also hugged back fiercely, “You were incredible!”

Starscream looked up, tears of absolute joy spilling out, “So were you!”

Skyfire let out a good-natured chuckle and shook his head, “I was so nervous about that meeting, I almost leaked lubricant! How did you manage to stay calm?”

His friend released the bear hug and shrugged. “It just felt… right, I guess. It just… happened. Like I was meant to just do it. If that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Skyfire assured him. The way his friend was poised, the language he used, engaging the audience, it was almost like if Starscream wasn’t bent on the sciences he could definitely be put in the political field.

The shuttle walked to their pantry and pulled out a platter of treat and two cubes of high-grade. “Come on! Let’s celebrate!”

Those two items, as well as, the offer to indulge in them was very rare for the larger mech. As a result, Starscream was all that much faster in accepting the offer, before Skyfire had a chance to change his mind.

The Vosnian accepted his drink and lifted it in the air, knocking it against the shuttle’s. “Cheers!”

After all, they definitely deserved a proper celebration after all of their hard work. Sadly, neither realized this would be the last one they’d share for vorns to come.

Chapter 3: Off the Ground

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

(Skywarp- Iacon International Prison)

For the initial few joors, Skywarp spent his time in a general holding area, happily annoying the guards and other prisoners. By the end of the fourth joor the guards that were supposed to protect the public against him, were forced to protect the young seekerling.

“Hey. Hey you!” Skywarp pestered trying to get his new cellmates’ attention. As for the three grounders in his cell, they were avidly trying to ignore him.

After a few breem of no verbal response, the Seeker moved closer to the other three bots. He waved a hand in front of the green and brown one’s face. “Yo. You alright?”

Before the Vosnian could dodge, the grounder’s servo clutched and twisted Skywarp’s.

“Don’t come near me, newbie. Ah've stabbed mechs for less.” Was the angry low growl of the older bot.

Skywarp ‘eep’ed as he jolted back in a submissive position. His cellmate sounded cruel and harsh. Like Breakjaw before dishing out a punishment… Skywarp crossed his arms over his head and kept his wings folded down. He didn’t want to get hurt!

“N-not again… D-don’t hurt me!”

His cellmates watched in shock as the warframe flier cringed back, protecting himself as if he was expecting to be struck. His pathetic whimpering was a wake-up call to the three grounders. This wasn’t an immature, annoying, military-trained Seeker, this was simply one of their scared, lonely, and probably abused children.

“What’s a kid like you doing here?” One of the other two asked.

“I-I b-beat up a High-Caste child for mo-m-money,” Skywarp replied still cowering. Sometimes Breakjaw would ask questions about the ‘mistake’ the Seekerling has made before punishing him for it.

“What for kiddo?” The same bot asked.

“H-he was really mean.”

The one who clutched his arm snorted, “Slaggers always are. They wouldn’t have put ya in here though,” he said suspiciously. “What else have ya done?”

The Seekerling didn’t answer at first. These guys were dangerous and Breakjaw had made a lot of dangerous enemies in all castes.

“Ah asked ya a question, punk.”

Skywarp shrank back again. That tone… it still sounded like he was going to be punched if he didn’t respond. Skywarp decided that speaking was the lesser of the two evils. “I-I’m with Breakjaw.”

The third bot who had yet to speak chuckled, “International crime gang, huh? I remember those days… good times.”

Skywarp nodded, not knowing what else to do.

The bots in the cell stay quiet for a while. It was a few breems before the third mech spoke up again.

“What’d ya do to the bratling?”

Skywarp looked up sheepishly from where he was sitting and inspecting his ped. “I put a knife to his throat.”

The one who spoke laughed, “Knife to a youngling and a criminal gang? I can’t help but like ya kiddo! Ya got what it takes to be a fine mech one day.”

The other two laughed at their third’s words. For all the black and purple youngling could tell it wasn’t malicious or sarcastic.

He was still wary, yet the compliment sent his wings fluttering. Praise was rare and Skywarp would take it whenever it was given. “Thanks…”

“Yeah, my pleasure kiddo.”

The bot who grabbed him at the start of the conversation asked a question to the Seekerling, “Ya gotta name? Or should we just keep calling ya kid?”

“I’m Skywarp. You guys?” After he blurted it out the Seekerling regretted sharing his actual name. Who knew what these bots could do to him with even the small amount of information he just supplied?

But except for the green and brown one, not one of them showed any sign of malicious intent to him. Even the green and brown bot seemed much more benevolent when he didn’t have a small servo to his faceplates. While Skywarp knew he shouldn’t trust them, he certainly was not afraid of being randomly attacked by those three.

“Dustbrawl.” The one who clutched him said. He pointing to his comrades respectively, “Backslam. Daggerpoint.”

“Dusty, Slammer, Dag. Got it.” Skywarp chirped, proud of the nicknames he came up with.

Dustbrawl wasn’t so pleased with them. “My name ain’t Dusty, kid. Get it right.”

“Aww, give the kid a break ‘Brawl. It’s his first day.” Backslam called out.

“If he keeps being annoying, it might be his last,” Dustbrawl replied with a glare.

Skywarp gulped and skidded backward. His plating made a small clang as he collided with the third of his cellmates, Daggerpoint.

Before the Seekerling could react, the quiet bot who praised him from earlier, wrapped an arm around Skywarp, pulling him close. Skywarp gulped again staring nervously at the servo that grabbed him.

“Don’t worry about ‘Brawl, kiddo.” Daggerpoint said in a comforting whisper, “He’s all bark. He won’t really hurt ya. Same goes for me ‘nd Backslam.”

“Oh. Thanks…” Skywarp mumbled back lamely. What else was there to say?

“Don’t worry, kiddo. Everything’s gonna be a-okay.” The silver and black grounder assured. He gave the youngling a pat on the shoulder and moved away.

Skywarp doubted that highly. So far his life was just a series of unfortunate events. But Dag sounded so sure, so positive, that Skywarp just couldn’t help to believe it too.

 

(Thundercracker- Vos)

Having barely slept at all the last night out of excitement, Thundercracker did a last minute run through before he left for his first day of training.

Refueled? Check.

Updated maintained forms? Check.

Standard-issue Enforcer laser blaster? Check.

Security clearance paperwork? Check and double check.

Satisfied, the blue Seeker walked out of his newly acquired single apartment and locked the door behind him. He made his way over to the balcony and jumped off of it, transforming, then flying through the sunny sky to reach his destination. Today was going to be beautiful.

 

(Starscream- Iacon Science Academy)

Back across Cybertron, in Iacon, another Seeker was preparing a list for his great adventure. The list however varied drastically.

Extra energon? Check.

Medical supplies? Check.

Emergency and spare emergency communicators? Check.

Flight plan and Planet coordinates? Check.

Research datapads? Check.

There were a few more items on that list but even as Starscream tripled checked everything, he still had the gnawing feeling that he was missing something, or would lose something, critical.

“C’mon Star, we need to go. Everything’s there.” Skyfire said moving over to his partner. The shuttle was refueled and ready to go. All he needed was for the jet to stop checking the list.

“How can you be so sure?” Starscream fretted about to begin the fourth check.

“Because you checked it three times already.” The larger mech told his comrade. “Now let’s go before Freezescope decides to send someone else.”

If it had to be anything, his partner’s last line definitely did the trick to get the seeker moving. He knew that the dean of Iacon was prone to last minute changes and impatience and when it dealt with the Vosnian, those behaviors were magnified.

Starscream could not allow that to happen. He worked so hard for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to let a couple replacement grounders get all the fun. Going on this trip was his reward, a prize that been heavily fought for and won.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Starscream called back, hurriedly trotting, with his bags of stuff to the takeoff strip they were departing out of.

Now if only he could shake off that bad feeling…

 

(Thundercracker- Vosnian Royal Palace)

In the meantime, Thundercracker had just touched down outside the palace gates. He jogged to the nearby guard post and showed his identification and authorization to go inside.

The guard inside the booth turned on his commlink and commed his superior about the arrival. A breem later and the said superior arrived inspecting Thundercracker with his optics.

Noticing the rank of the guard’s superior, who was in a way also his superior now, Thundercracker quickly locked himself in the position of attention. His servo flew up in an automatic salute, wings tilted downwards as signs of respect.

“So you’re the new recruit.” The older mech mused. He circled around the younger seeker like a predator would do to his prey, optic training on every little thing.

“Sir yes sir.” Thundercracker immediately replied.

The Royal Guard let out an ‘hmm’. “Strikeray’s boy correct?”

“Affirmative, sir.”

The other seeker gave a nod, “That’s what I thought. A fine product. ‘Course you can’t expect anything less from ole Striker.” He informed as if Thundercracker was a manufactured piece of art, and not a new recruit. Of course, in a way he was. Like a tennis racket to an arm, he was merely an extension of the government that his superior was a part of.

Thundercracker widely stayed silent. He was still at attention and it wouldn’t do to mess anything up before he started. Like the inspecting bot had said Thundercracker was a fine product, and he would prove it.

The Royal Guard straightened after another breem of staring at his new trainee. He faced the bot he was now in charge of. “My designation is Commander Cloudburst. You are to address me as Commander or sir. Am I understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Thundercracker responded back. He heard the Commander loud and clear.

Cloudburst nodded and made a sharp yet pristine about-face. “Follow.” He ordered.

Thundercracker hurriedly did so, barely remembering to stay on step. Catching up he flanked the Commander on the right side. Except for moving his wings to a commanding position, Thundercracker copied the officer’s movements exactly.

Cloudburst halted at a door abruptly, typing into a keypad and Thundercracker was happy he choose to flank the bot and not follow right behind him. That was, after all, the only thing that kept him from bumping into his new superior.

Thundercracker stared in awe at what the doors opened to. Despite it being inside the training facility was rather commodious, complete with a few weapon ranges, fight and flight simulators, and to complete it all a giant obstacle course. “Woah…” he exhaled quietly so that his Commander couldn’t hear.

“This is where we practice. The training facilities are open all the times so that we can prepare constantly for when we are called upon to serve the Winglord and Vos.”

Thundercracker simply nodded from his place in the door frame. The grounds were much more impressive than any of the academies’. Once again, it was truly no wonder why the Guards were considered the most elite in Vos.

The Commander made another of his sharp pivots and strode away, his new recruit rushing to trail after him. “Mess hall, to the right. General debriefing to the left. Armory’s right here. Make two rights to get to the officer’s hallway.” Cloudburst directing pointing places out, but not opening them up like he did the training field. Obviously, he didn’t consider those places to be all that worthwhile.

‘Oh well,’ Thundercracker thought. ‘I’ll get to it eventually.’

Cloudburst stopped in front of another door, “This is the Medbay. You will not go in here unless there is an emergency or an officer says otherwise. Understood.”

“Yes, sir.” The academy graduate nodded.

“Good. You’ll report to the front gates at 08:00 sharply tomorrow for training. Dismissed.” Without waiting for a response the white seeker stalked off down the first hallway to get to the offices.

Thundercracker also turned around and looked at the hallway they came through. Unfortunately, that hallway branched off into three other hallways. Trying to note the placement of the doors as they came down here, the blue seeker had no clue as to which hallway they came from.

He released a sigh, he’d figure it out eventually.

 

(Skywarp- Iacon International Prison)

Skywarp woke up in the morning being roughly shaken. He tried to ignore it, but a sharp kick to the midsection prevented that from happening. Groaning he rolled over on his side and started to shakily stand up. “What the slag?”

“Shut it, kid,” Dustbrawl said from the corner he leaned against.

“Do what we do,” Daggerpoint instructed, as the tromping of pedes came closer.

In the background, Skywarp could just make out a fierce cry from one of the Enforcers from a nearby cell.

“What’s happening?” The Seekerling asked, wings rattling in fear.

“Ah said shut it, Skywarp,” Dustbrawl growled, the first of his cellmates to actually use his designation.

That name drop and the tone it was used only made the youngling more nervous. He let out a small ‘eep’ and folded his wings down submissively as a response.

After a breem of nothing going on Skywarp start to settle and let his guard down. This, unfortunately, happened just as the Enforcers burst into the cell. “Hands up!”

The three grounders in the cell calmly did so. Each of them stood up straight and looked bored as they complied. Skywarp’s reaction was a lot less calm…

“Aaaah!” Yelped the Seekerling as he jumped into the air, hastily throwing his servos up as the Enforcers trained their blasters on him.

While two of the five prison guards remained at the door to guard it, the other three began checking the room for any contraband items or for any escape routes that may have popped up last night.

“Cell #471 clear. All prisoners accounted for.” The one who yelled coming in reported over his comm.

Then just as quickly as they came in they went out.

“Wh-what was that?” Skywarp wondered, terrified and expecting another intrusion at any klick.

“That’s,” Backslam commented, “The ‘good mornin’ wake up call. It’s even more fun when you're trying ta sleep.”

The seekerling remember that Backslam had woken him up just before the incident started. Skywarp was scared enough about it when he was awake, and the youngling could only imagine how much worse it would be if the grounder didn’t wake him. “Thanks, Slammer.”

“Anytime, kid.”

That was it. Nothing else had to be said, nor did any of them want to speak to the others. All of them were content to sit or stand in silence until the Enforcers came back and escorted the group to morning energon.

In the hallway more of the prison’s occupant and their guard joined the procession. With so many of Cybertron’s mass-murderers and criminals surrounding him, the black and purple seekerling felt so small and insignificant compared to them. He regretted leaving Breakjaw’s shoddy shelter. It wasn’t much but it was home. And even though his cellmates seemed to be nice, Skywarp would never consider this dump to be anything close to his former residence.

Speaking of his cellmates, Skywarp looked around, but after being shoved and pushed around a few dozen times they were nowhere to be seen. His wings fluttered with anxiety, but the seekerling quickly quelled the shaking, trying to look more confident around the mechs and femmes near him. It wouldn’t do to look like such easy prey, he thought, getting on the line to receive energon.

The line moved surprisingly quickly, Skywarp noticed. Now with energon on his tray, Skywarp searched for his cellmates again. With no luck, the seekerling sat at the closest open table. Scanning the crowd for the three grounders, Skywarp didn’t notice the approach of a large green and orange tank-former until too late, “What’s a pretty, little thing like ya doing here?”

Skywarp’s wing tensed up as he faced the voice. He put on his best Breakjaw-like scowl and snarled, “Go away!”

“Now, now, ain’t no need to get nasty. I’m just tryin’ to be nice,” the tank responded, with a sickeningly sweet smile. He dropped his own energon tray next to the seekerling’s.

“Well, stop tryin’. I said leave me alone!”

The other bot did the complete opposite, closing the gap between the two. He put on a fake pout, “Yer hurtin’ my feelings.” Before Skywarp could react the larger, stronger mech wrapped his servo around the Vosnian’s helm, lifting him off the ground. Once they were at the same height level the tank pulled the Seekerling into a rough, crude kiss.

The tank broke off and leered, “Why don’t ya come with me, so we can… sort this out, huh?”

That was as far as the tank got before a fist collided with his helm. Amazingly, the punch didn’t come from Skywarp, though it thankfully released the seekerling, who collapsed on the ground. Skywarp wanted to cry with delight when he heard the gruff vocals of his savior, “Ah’m thinkin’ lets not.”

“Dustbrawl!” the tank gasped, “I wasn’t gonna do anythin’! Just a chat!”

“It’s never ‘’just a chat’ with ya, Bludgeon.” His cellmate retorted with fully visible disgust.

At the same time, Skywarp felt two pairs of familiar servo help him back to a standing position. Both of his other cellmates appeared to be just as disgusted as the third mech was. Skywarp, for all the limited time he had known the three grounders, had never seen even one of the three so mad, much less all of them at once.

Dustbrawl punched the tank, whose name Skywarp learned was Bludgeon, again. Daggerpoint was glaring sharply, the desire for Bludgeon to meet one of his dagger points was on display for all. Backslam was able to calm himself down long enough to ask the important question, leaving out the nickname of ‘kid’ to show the true severity. “Did he do anything else to ya, Skywarp?”

 

Even Dustbrawl quieted down so he could hear the important answer. Skywarp whimpered in his other cellmates hold, starting to sob, “...H-he kissed me…” The youngling then buried himself in Backslam’s chassis.

The roar of pure rage Dustbrawl released was deafening. He wasted no time in charging, once more, at the other tank who had assaulted the young Vosnian. In a startling show of brute force, Dustbrawl tackled Bludgeon, forcing the green and orange tank to the floor. Using his legs and weight to pin his opponent down, he wrapped a servo around Bludgeon’s neck plating trying to choke the other tank. Dustbrawl kept his other servo free and wound that one up for another punch.

Daggerpoint rushed to help his comrade in his beating of Skywarp’s assaulter. His sharp talons were plunged into Bludgeon shoulder joints, as he took over pinning duty. Dustbrawl worked in tandem, promptly sliding to the backside of the orange and green tank, slamming his helm to the ground, before he stomped on Bludgeon’s face.

“Aah! Stop! I won’t do it- ow-again! I-ouch- promise!” Bludgeon screamed thrashing as the seekerling’s allies tore into him. Unfortunately for him, Daggerpoint and Dustbrawl made no signs of stopping.

In the meantime, Backslam tried his best to calm down the Seekerling. The brawl was gathering a crowd, and despite the show of savagery from his comrades, Backslam knew that after awhile at least one of the gathering prisoners would attempt another attack on the target that was a crying Seekerling.

“Hey, kid. It’s alright, yer safe now kid. Calm down; we gotta audience.” The slate and dark magenta mech murmured into the child’s audial stroking one of the Vosnian’s precious wings in comfort.

Skywarp gave a few more sniffles in order to dry his tears. For the lubricant that already streamed down his faceplates, he wiped at them until the evidence was gone.

“There, there. That’s it kiddo.” Backslam patted Skywarp’s shoulder as the youngling let go of him.

Three more breems saw Bludgeon’s abuse done with. Dustbrawl and Daggerpoint released the battered mech, leaving the tank on the floor as they moved back to the Seekerling and their comrade. Daggerpoint took up a flanking position behind the Vosnian, like Backslam putting his servo over the child’s servo in a display of loyalty and possession.

The green and brown tank stood in a defensive position close by. He growled at the prisoners that had crowded around for the fight. He shot a pointed servo at Skywarp. “‘ttention slaggers. Skywarp’s mine, ya mess with him, y’all mess with us. ‘Nd if y’all don’t like that, my fist will gladly give ya creeps a reminder.”

The room stood in silence. Dustbrawl waited for anyone to make an objection and when no one did he snarled once more, heading back to his cellmates. “Grab yer chow, kid. Yer stayin’ with us.”

Skywarp nodded mutely, wings folded down in an attempt to be smaller as all optics were glued to him, going to the table he was at. Retrieving the energon, he placed himself inside the triangle that was formed, by his protectors, and they marched over to where the three grounders were sitting earlier.

“How’d you guys find me?” Skywarp asked.

Dustbrawl grunted, “Ya see any other Seekerlings in here? That’s how.”

Skywarp hung his head. That answer was… obvious. There weren’t any other Seekers in here in general, much less ones that were his age.

He realized then that it didn’t matter how much like easy prey he looked liked, or didn’t. He was obviously a pretty, defenseless, youngling, and the mechs kept locked up here would love to take advantage of him. Skywarp was immediately grateful that he was placed in a cell with the tough love type of mech, like Dustbrawl, instead of Bludgeon. If he was… Skywarp knew he wasn’t likely to survive this place.

For the rest of the day, during exercise, work, free time, Skywarp made sure to always stay near at least one of his cellmates. In return, they looked out for him, occasionally punching an onlooker that came too close for their liking.

 

(Skywarp- Later at night)

It was late at night and with barely any windows in the prison, Skywarp’s cell was plunged into darkness. The conversation from earlier had been gone for awhile and Daggerpoint had urged the young Vosnian to recharge. After being satisfactorily assured that he was safe, that was exactly what the Seekerling did.

“He’s so… innocent.” Backslam commented to his companions quietly.

“Obviously. He’s a kid for Primus’s sake!” Dustbrawl exclaimed. He lowered his voice, as not to wake the recharging child, “He can’t survive this place… not like we can.”

“Then we gotta get him out,” Backslam responded.

Dustbrawl sighed and looked annoyed as he turned to his cellmate, “And how do ya suppose we do that?”

Backslam looked down, “I dunno. But we gotta try.”

Daggerpoint chose that moment to enter the conversation, “Call in the favors. Threaten the others ta help. They’ll do it, y’all know that.”

There was a heavy silence that settled over the three grounders. All of them were silently considering the options. In the end, they all knew it had to be done. Daggerpoint and Backslam waited for their tacitly elected leader to confirm.

Dustbrawl nodded, giving his firm approval, “Tomorrow. It happens then.”

 

(Starscream- Earth)

“Haha!” Starscream whooped finally able to stretch his wings over the new planet. The seeker barrel rolled past his partner in delight, swooping around their transport ship.

Skyfire smiled up at the ecstatic tetrajet. The shuttle knew his friend didn’t take the close quarters and the inability to fly very well during their trip.

“C’mon Sky! Weather’s great!” Starscream called transforming briefly into his root mode before switching back for another pass.

“Careful. The weather patterns are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” Skyfire warned, the always more cautious of the two flyers.

Starscream halted right above the shuttle, he looked down with a pout, “You said the same thing about our stop at Velocitron… At least this place does not have acid rain. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Star-” Skyfire warned again.

The seeker huffed getting impatient. “Fine. I get it. I’ll go by myself.” Starscream promptly transformed back to his alt mode and started to accelerate again.

Skyfire sighed. The weather patterns were unpredictable but so were the Seekers grudges, especially when they were taken personally. The white mech remembered the fun they had at Velocitron while the ship refueled. Starscream had been right then too. Surely it couldn’t be that bad…

::Star! Wait up!:: Skyfire called as he took off too, chasing after his friend.

::I knew you’d come around.:: The Vosnian responded turning back to roll around his partner.

::Is that so?:: Skyfire teased. They both knew the seeker’s true emotion at being supposedly left alone.

::Yes.:: Starscream replied simply, an air of ‘I don’t know what you're talking about' flitting about the edges of his EMP field. ::Isn’t this planet beautiful?::

Skyfire chuckled, ::Changing the subject, hmm? But yes I suppose it is. The organic life is so calm and peaceful.::

::Makes you wish home was like this.:: Starscream said wistfully.

::Yeah. Absolutely.::

The two scientist’s conversation fell into a brief thoughtful lull. While the Vosnian was much faster than Skyfire, himself, Starscream seemed content to keep the pace.

At least for a little while. With a sudden surge to his thrusters, the fighter jet surged ahead of the white shuttle. ::Race you!:: He cried.

::Hey! No fair!:: Skyfire called, making a hard bank to the right. At the same time he did so, however, a hard gust of the planet’s unpredictable winds knocked into him. Skyfire felt a nervous tremor running through his frame as he watched his partner’s life signal fade off his radar.

This was all his fault… the shuttle mourned. If only he was less indulgent to Starscream… Or if he had checked the storm’s path before he chased after his friend… Stupid, Skyfire, stupid, he berated himself as he pushed his thrusters to move towards the seeker’s last known position.

“Star? Starscream, where are you?” He yelled transforming into his robot mode to hopefully find his partner better. “Starscream?!”

Soon the winds grew more intense and it became harder to see. Skyfire fought through them, he had to find Starscream. No matter what… he had to find him.

That thought was cruelly shoved aside as another fierce gust of icy wind blasted into him. The shuttle cried out first with agony, then with fear as his flight systems began to shut down.

Skyfire entered freefall, doing everything he could to re-engage his thrusters. It was no use, the shuttle crashed into the snow and ice roughly. He was buried, with no way of getting out.

Forgive me, Starscream. Stay safe. Was the shuttle’s last thought before he entered emergency stasis.

Notes:

PLEASE READ: This fic will be on a brief hiatus. This does not mean I will abandon it, it means it will be continued at a later time! Once I find more time, I will start posting more chapters again. Thank you!

Chapter 4: Downhill

Notes:

Oh wow... Forget 2-3 weeks, this took like 2-3 months... Man, time flies! In any case, I am super, super sorry to anyone who was waiting for this update for a while.

 

For future reference, the wait time for Ch. 5 will probably also be around this time frame. I'm quiet busy right now, so there are limited opportunities to write, but I will try to pick up the pace once summer rolls around.

 

With thanks to everyone for their continued cooperation and support; it really does mean a lot; I now present to you all Origins: (Ch. 4) 'Downhill'!

Chapter Text

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[Stasis Lock: Deactivated. Onling Subroutines: Ongoing.]

… … … … … … …

“...Ugh…” The Cybertronian groaned groggily. He looked at his HUD display. Stasis lock? What for? He was still in that cramped transport with his partner.

… … … … … … …

[Thrusters: Online]

[Processor: Stable]

[Sensory Panels: Activating]

… … … … … … …

Slowly the flier twitched his wings, hoping to get information. A new image display came up in his processor. Wind speed was 15 mph in a Northeast direction; the temperature was… cold. Really cold, the scientist noted. Why was he cold?

… … … … … … …

[Audials: Online]

[Communication array: Activated]

[Damage: Minimal]

… … … … … … …

‘Damage: Minimal’? What was that supposed to mean? He hadn’t done anything recently that would cause that HUD message to pop up… At least not that the flier could recall.

… … … … … … …

[Optical Array: Rebooting]

… … … … … … …

The scientist blinked owlishly, as his optics brightened and he saw the world around him. It took a moment, but it wasn’t long before the mech realized that his surroundings were quite literally the world. The Cybertronian looked around at the ice cave, not comprehending where he was or why. Not to mention the notable absence of his partner. Weren’t they just taking off for a flight?

No… they weren’t. There was a storm. Starscream thought, and the last bits of his memories pieces together. Horrified and worried, the seeker scrambled to his pedes, not seeing his partner nearby he called out softly, “Skyfire?”

A moment of silence passed, then: “Skyfire!” Came the more insistent shout leveled in a mixed tone of urgency and fear.

Still no answer.

The seeker felt his spark plunge in terror. No… No! It couldn’t be! Skyfire… Starscream shook his head. His partner had to still be out there; somewhere. And he would find him.

Starscream ran out of the cave, calling for his partner as he went. The large shuttle would not have left him, he had to be somewhere nearby. Somewhere… in this vast, daunting planet; with all its hard ice, humongous expanses of green overgrowth, and the swirling depths of the oceans, and… no.

The Seeker shook his helm. Those thoughts did help anyone. He could not listen to them. The situation was challenging, yes, but not hopeless or impossible. The jet made a private vow that if he had to, he’d search the entire organic planet, twice, before he started to give up hope. He knew the shuttle would do the same for him, and perhaps that’s what his partner was doing right now.

Now this thought brought a smile to Starscream’s faceplates. Yes, he thought taking off in jet mode to expand his search, that must be it.

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“So Dynamo told me ya ‘dopted the Seeker bratling. But Ah told ‘him that he’d had ta be slagged in the helm ta believe that; ‘There ain’t no way ole Dustbrawl’s gone soft.’ Ah mean ya haven’t have ya?” A medium sized sports vehicle questioned his shift partner.

In response, the larger tank gave an annoyed grunt. Dustbrawl was, after all, never one to stand around and gossip. They had a job to get done, and that job certainly had nothing to do with the youngling.

The other mech gasped, apparently taking the lack of a response as an answer all in its self. “No way! Ya did, didn’t ya? Primus, can’t believe ‘Mo was right; he’s gonna be insufferable now.” After a quite audible groan, he spoke again, “Why’d ya do it?”

Dustbrawl growled. Great… the other bot couldn’t be farther from the truth and now his reputation was in jeopardy. Thinking fast Dustbrawl responded, “S’where yer wrong, Ah can’t stand that weakling. Just couldn’t listen to his wailing another night. No one wants him gone more than me.”

“Oh, really?” There was a note of interest in the other prisoner’s voice.

“Ah’ve never been more serious. S’why my cellmates and Ah are gonna break him outta here.” Dustbrawl said the way the conversation was going so far gave the tank a potential to get some back up when the important day came. Of course, he had to tread a thin line, a very difficult task when one was an impulsive tank.

“Can’t y’all just kill ‘im if he’s that bad?”

Dustbrawl now had to think really fast. He didn’t think the other bot would actually be smart enough to ask that question. And if he was being honest, he never thought to prepare otherwise. “We could. But then they’d throw me in solitary. Rather not do that, ‘gain.” Take the bait, take it, the tank internally pleaded.

“Heh.” The other prisoner gave a wry half-laugh, “Yeah, no thanks for that. Barely even know the brat, not gonna take the fall for ‘im. But if he’s as bad as ya say, Dustbrawl, I’ll see if I can get my cell mates ta give yer guys a servo.”

The green and brown bot fought hard to suppress a broad grin. Mission accomplished. And with luck, the other mech would be prone to gossip and he’d spread the word about the jailbreak. But that was getting ahead of himself. “Much obliged,” Dustbrawl grunted characteristically getting back work, they had a quota to fill after all.

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“Sir! The armory is finished being cleaned, sir!” Thundercracker reported in. The early task had been dreadfully boring, but the blue Seeker understood the importance of having organized and clean weapons. He just wished he could start actually training like all the other new recruits and their mentors.

Alas, his wish was not to be. Cloudcutter just grunted in reply, not looking up from his datapad and ordered, “Go clean it again. I want to see my reflection it-”

“Sir, you already can. If you would just come with me.”

“I was not finished, recruit.” The Commander hissed; this time looking up to glare as if it would help further his commands. “Now as I was saying, you will clean the armory again, then you will take inventory of Storage units Alpha, Delta, and Echo. Report back when you finished. You may get started on filing paperwork when I approve your work.”

Thundercracker held back a weary sigh as he saluted. “Aye, aye, Sir…” Why did he ever apply for this job? So much for all the grace and nobility of the job of a Royal Guard; here he was playing errand boy when he could have been solving the most important law cases of the day. Some wonderful experience this was turning out to be.

Leaving the office, Thundercracker vowed to himself that one day, sooner or later, he’d show Cloudcutter just how good he could be.

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“Backslam, wait!” Someone called out.

The named mech turned around, to face the other. “Whaddya want, Slicedice?”

“My master sent me to tell you that he will pledge his allegiance to your cause,” Slicedice informed, just as Crazybolt had told him to do. They had heard through the underground rumor line what the prisoners in Cell #471 were going to do within the coming cycles. Considering part of the plan would probably include a chase, Crazybolt was more than eager to offer his support. Being able to go as fast as he wanted… that was an opportunity one would be a fool to pass up. His ever-faithful mini-con agree, but, “There is one condition.”

Backslam, who was about to thank the mini-con, and by default the half-predacon speedster, but the last line stopped that. Backslam narrowed his optics, “That so?”

The mini-con nodded. “Indeed. All that Master Crazybolt is asking for, is that the Seekerling makes use of his full-speed, through the freedom he will be granted.”

As the taller mech was listening, he forced himself not to A.) smirk; because of course it would have to do something with Crazybolt’s crazy philosophies, or B.) stare agape; because Backslam knew that the speedster was usually much more ruthless. Of course, the taller mech knew he had to reply; so with a slight smile on his faceplates he responded, “I know he will.”

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“Oof!” Starscream exclaimed as he tripped over the ice again. He had attempted flight, but that meant he was too high up to see anything, and after dropping altitude his wingtips had started to freeze over.

The night was falling on this strange planet, and from the way, the statistics were alluding to, it was only going to get colder. Colder… The scientist bit back a laugh, at that. Up until they arrived at this tri-cursed ice ball, Starscream could safely say that even Cybertron’s so-called, ‘frigid wastelands’ could be listed as a tropical vacation spot. And most Vosnians thought Kaon was cold! Ha; Puh-lease! He’d show them freezing.

The tri-colored seeker climbed up another snow and ice mound and subsequently fell in it. Starscream gave a loud gasp, compared to the quiet world around him, at the icy sensation, creeping across his wings. He shivered, groaning, as another gust of wind howled through the area.

He hated this planet; hated it! Once he found Skyfire and returned to Cybertron, he was going to have a long… conversation with whoever thought that sending mecha to this planet was a good idea! Starscream understood that not all expeditions were safe, but this was beyond dangerous! It was like the planet was a living version of Unicron! In other words, most certainly out to get them. Oh yes, the normally rational scientist gritted, finally getting free from the snow pile, he and the Committee were going to have some words.

In the hazy distance, whether from snow or fog, Starscream couldn’t tell the difference anymore, the seeker noticed the twinkling night lights of their ship. Spirits lifting, Starscream no longer had to force himself to keep up the trudge. In just a few steps he would be warm and safe, away from the storm, away from this planet, and it’s accursed weather. Perhaps his partner was also on his way back from the ship, maybe Skyfire was already there! Then they would be reunited, and they could escape the torture that was planet 9X15-3P. The thought warmed Starscream’s spark, if only slightly.

After what felt like forever to the war-framed flier, Starscream reached the transport ship. Or as Starscream was currently referring it as ‘the best damn, slagging chunk of non-living sight, on this fragging Pit of a planet!’ He would continue to praise the ship later but now he had to find the ‘best damn living sight…’

“Skyfire! I’m back!” Starscream yelled out. He visibly cringed at how his voice had become so raspy and high-pitched. Obviously, the ice had done more damage than he thought. He would have Skyfire take a look-Skyfire! The shuttle didn’t respond, which meant Skyfire was still out there!

“Scrap,” Starscream hissed, running out back towards the opening to the transport. He had barely taken one step out before the Seeker moved back inside. Another fierce storm cropped up, and from the sensory input his wings were supplying, the winds were harsher than the one that initially separated the two scientists.

He could not go out in that; it was too strong for his smaller frame. Maybe with extensive training he could, but the jet was sure not even the strongest mecha in the Royal Vosnian Air Force could maintain a steady flight for long in these conditions. The fact that he was still online was miraculous enough. Miserably, Starscream shook his helm. He would have to wait the storm out, he would not do his partner any favors by getting himself knocked offline on a strange planet.

This was, of course, assuming that Skyfire was still online himself. Starscream was horrified at himself at the thought. How could he think otherwise? His partner was probably fine, waiting for the storm out in some form of shelter, he’d come back once the storm was over. Yes, Starscream conceded, that was probably exactly what his calm, reasonable, and logical partner was doing now. Right?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dustbrawl spared the snoozing Seekerling in cell block #471 only the smallest of glances, before giving his full attention to the room’s other two occupants. “Well?” He asked gruffly, “Ah got Dynamo’s and Battletrap’s boys. Who else we got?”

“Crazybolt, Quake, and Spinister and their minicons,” Backslam stated. He left out Crazybolt’s condition. It was not that important, no need to bring attention to something that was going to happen already.

Dustbrawl frowned slightly at the list but eventually nodded in approval. He may not have liked any of the three psychopaths, especially the half-predacon speedster, but they would need a distraction to get the plan to work. Besides, he guessed the minicons were alright. If there was one thing the tank had learn from his time in here, it was that even the smallest mecha could perform vast amounts of damage.

The other two turned to face Daggerpoint. The silver and black mech had not said anything yet, and it was only the slight repulsion in his optics that showed how much he disliked the situation. Or rather, the name of the mecha he was about to say. “Strika-”

“Why so glum? I thought we wanted her to help...with her military training and all-” Backslam interrupted, and was interrupted in turn.

Ahem. Strika… and Bludgeon.”

“Oh. Yeah, not good.”

“No fraggin’ way.” The green and brown tank growled menacingly, “How’d that creep find out?”

Daggerpoint shrugged. He had no idea exactly how, but he figured the rumor mill had some role in it. He gave a look to the slate and purple, and green and brown mechs. The message was clear, ‘does it really matter?’

The tank growled again, slowly working on decomposing. His comrade was right, the how didn’t matter, the what they were going to do about it did. But for now, they were going to focus on the Seekerling, or more specifically the plan to get the kid out. With, probably, most of the prisoners in the know, it certainly wasn’t going to take long before the guards knew something was going on. Because of which, they all knew they had to act fast.

“‘Right. Time ta get down ta business. How’re we busting flyboy outta here?” Dustbrawl questioned, jerking a digit, behind his back, at Skywarp.

“...Ugh… Seeker notta… yawn… flyboy…” Skywarp mumbled twitching uncomfortably and tiredly where he lay.

The three adults froze at his voice careful not to make a sound. With the loud, talkative, careless attitude that was Skywarp, the three adults knew that he could not know about their plan until it was time to execute it. What if the Seekerling accidentally spilled the information to one of the prison guards, or one of them overheard if the Seekerling decided to clarify on parts of it during some time block or another. No, no, they couldn’t have that.

After a few breems went by and there was no movement or sound from the young flier, except for his common, soft snores, the adults let out a collective sigh of relief. The seekerling must have been sleep talking; blissfully unaware of what was taking place between his cellmates.

“Well, first, we gotta find a way ta hack the locks and security,” Backslam stated. “Daggerpoint?”

The black and silver Praxian nodded. “I can do that.” He said softly.

“Crazybolt’s boys can run a ‘straction, literally,” Dustbrawl noted, a plan beginning to come together in his helm. “The others prob’ly wouldn’t mind messin’ with the guards. But Ah want Bludgeon far away from the kid.”

The others nodded, in agreement. They had no intention of letting that creep near the youngling again. After all, after what happened the last time, it was not at all hard to recall exactly what the ghastly orange and green tank was sentenced for.

More hours ticked by. The volunteered mechas’ names were tossed around, retracted, moved around, and discard like pawns in a chess game. They choose a time and date for when the jailbreak was to take place; two orns from now at midnight. Late enough so everyone involved could understand their roles and finalize specific details, while still being early enough that it was not likely that the guards would find out about it. As if each detail and name were a jigsaw piece, they were slowly being assembled to form the larger puzzle.

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“One day, Cloudcutter. One day…” Thundercracker muttered under his breath, keying in the code to his apartment door. The blue seeker was practically oozing filth, from all the grime and oil that he had been forced to clean up that day, courtesy of ...well… of Cloudcutter.

This was the sixth day in a row, that the young adult seeker was ordered to do these ever-worse, mundane tasks. He had cleaned the latrines, polish every square micrometer of passageways A4 and S17, and even mucked the Force’s cyber-animal stalls; multiple times. And yet, despite this, Cloudcutter refused to start his training. Instead, the Commander had just given him more work to do!

Thundercracker was sick of it! He knew this could not keep going on forever, eventually training would begin, but still, that did not stop the blue mech from seriously considering quitting. He was ready to just march up to Cloudcutter tomorrow, and turning in his Royal Guard insignia.

Two things stopped the young adult from actually committing to that plan. First off, Thundercracker was a pretty intelligent mech. He knew that most likely this was just a test in patience, determination, and discipline. Sooner or later, those mundane tasks would stop. Sooner or later, his real training had to beginning. This line of thought brought up the second one. Something good was bound to happen in the upcoming cycles; if the insistent pulse of his spark was any indication.

So he would stay for that. That pure moment of bliss, where he could rub his success into Cloudcutter’s faceplates and say ‘I told you so.’ Because Thundercracker was sure that was going to happen. And he would be willing to bet it was going to happen soon.

Notes:

Thank you all for reading! If you have any questions, comments, concerns, or constructive criticism, feel free to comment! I really do love reader feedback!

Series this work belongs to: