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If it wasn’t for Skywarp accidentally killing Starscream, he’s not sure they would have ever been able to make sense of Starscream’s malfunction of a spark.
Like most bad situations, it was Starscream’s fault. He had roped Skywarp into disobeying a direct retreat order, in order to continue to desperately pursue their target. Starscream hated to lose, and he hated to give up, no matter the odds.
The retreat order had been issued on the grounds that they were dangerously outnumbered. The Decepticons hadn’t been able to locate the objective in the scant amount of time they had before they were noticed.
Now the previously unmarred alien planet was crawling with well-armed and on alert Autobots. Skywarp was regretting the fact that he had been goaded into staying with the paltry promise of double rations. They were after some rare element, which would help Shockwave build some sort of ray, to do some sort of thing- Skywarp had forgotten the details, or hadn’t been paying attention enough to learn them in the first place.
“I know it’s here,” Starscream muttered to himself fiercely.
He and Starscream were in the middle of hopping along every few hundred yards, manically scanning for any sign of the ore, when they were spotted by an Autobot patrol. Skywarp’s drive was on a cooldown from the rapid jumps he had been doing and it would be several minutes before he could get them fully off the planet.
For now, all he could do was keep them moving so the Autobot’s didn’t pin down their location for ambush. Using his drive this much, even for brief distances, was an exhausting exercise that brought increasing nausea and dizziness into Skywarp’s systems.
That tactic lasted until they hit a dead end, outnumbered, underfueled, low on laser charges. Skywarp glanced behind them to notice a plunging cliff and the sprawl of a pitted out plain before them. Something itched in his processor, some vague sense of warning that something about that area looked wrong.
Skywarp realized he didn’t have time to figure it out, he shoved down any hesitancy and warmed up his drive. With enough charge to warp them at least out of blaster range one final time, Skywarp did his thing, grabbing Starscream by the arm and getting them out of there.
Starscream turned to him, taking his sights off the treeline from which various Autobot combatants were swarming, guns drawn. His optics were wide as he realized the destination Skywarp was eyeing, barely getting out a “wait!” before they were gone.
Skywarp was practically an expert at warping himself and others safely. He’d never smashed a teleport partner into a wall by misjudging their joint velocity. Had never teleported themselves too high, or into a space too small. His only casualties had ever been some scuffed paint or dented plating.
He hadn’t known about the mines though.
If he had been paying attention to Starscream’s pre-raid briefing, he might have remembered Starscream saying the planet they were being deployed to was a former battlefield. And that said battlefield was loaded with tons of old munitions, some still live.
Instead, Skywarp had been focusing on distracting Thundercracker, mocking how dry the presentation was, and sending him something lascivious over comms. It had done him well in that he saw Thundercracker’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of light purple.
It had not turned out quite so well now that Starscream was laid out flat on the ground. The mine he had landed on was a smoking crater nearby. Skywarp himself had been blown back a few yards, skidding sideways on his aft in the mud. After spending a couple seconds in stunned recalibration, Skywarp struggled to a stand. Gingerly, he picked himself up, mud dripping off him as he glanced at Starscream to assess the situation.
For a moment, Starscream’s frame was still, and Skywarp’s spark seized with queasy panic. He took a few unsteady steps towards Starscream’s frame, the urge to purge rising with each one.
Then, Starscream managed to shove himself onto his side, rolling onto his back. After another moment of ragged ventilations, up to a sitting position. A massive and jagged piece of metal was jutting out of his vent. It was at least as big as Skywarp’s forearm, and that was just the part he could see.
“You…” Starscream seethed, glaring up at Skywarp, expression promising all the threats he couldn’t yet seem to find the words for. Well, he was still talking, which was probably a good sign.
“Relax, we’re out of range of the Autosnots for now,” Skywarp attempted to grin, but Starscream’s expression merely soured further.
“Skywarp,” Starscream began through labored vents. “You are going to run drills until your wings fall off.” Starscream liked projecting the pain he was feeling onto others when he was injured, Skywarp was well aware.
“Relax, it can’t be that bad, I’ll just yank it out,” Skywarp placated nervously.
Sure vents hurt like pit when they were even lightly dented by pebbles or other refuse, and this bit of metal was sizeably larger than a pebble. But it wouldn’t be fatal. Plus he knew a neat trick that would amaze Starscream so much, he might forget about any punishment.
“Skywarp, if you so much as touch me, I will-” Not waiting for Starscream to come up with more inventive punishment ideas, Skywarp gripped the lodged bit of shrapnel. He activated his warp drive, allowing both himself and the shrapnel to teleport just a few inches back.
When he looked back down at Starscream, there was only a slender crescent shaped wound where the shrapnel had been. He examined the jagged piece of metal in his hand for a moment, noting only the very tip had a bit of energon on it.
“See?” he said smugly, waving the piece at Starscream.
Starscream did not appear to be able to see anything, his optics vacant, mouth opening and closing slowly. He emitted a high, choking whine, unlike any sound Skywarp had ever heard him make. Slowly, his frame slumped forward, his wings lowered down. With a small thump, Starscream was laying on his front, motionless.
“Star?” Skywarp asked uneasily, nudging Starscream’s limp frame with his pede.
Starscream did not move. Skywarp bent down, gripping him tightly to flip him over. Starscream’s wings scraped the ground with the effort, but he made no sound, no movement. His optics were offline, open and dark, his mouth slack. Skywarp stared numbly, first at him, then at the metal in his hand.
“Oh, pit,” Skywarp said as raw panic clogged his fuel tank. “Ohh pit.”
Frantically, Skywarp glanced around, searching for something, anything that he could do. Dozens of yards short, a stray blaster shot hit the sand. He looked back up at the cliff to see the minute silhouettes of the Autobots they had just so nearly escaped.
Skywarp was not one for heroics. Not for Starscream’s sake, especially. The closest he would ever get was probably returning back to that group of Autobots, dragging Starscream’s limp frame along with him. They had just started a retreat, apparently deciding that going after Skywarp and Starscream wasn’t worth the hassle.
Skywarp teleported himself and Starscream into the middle of them, startling quite a few mecha back.
“Wait,” he said, out of breath and unable to reign in the desperation in his voice. “Please.”
He was greeted with five weapons trained on him, and a sea of unfriendly blue optics.
“I surrender, just please, help him,” Skywarp pleaded, jostling Starscream’s unconscious frame.
The guns were held up a moment longer.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” someone shoved through the crowd. “We don’t shoot the injured.” Red colored mech with stern blue optics and a drawl to the way he spoke. The way he talked itched something in Skywarp’s processor.
Ironhide, Skywarp knew him, surprisingly. Besides Optimus, he didn’t remember most of the names of Autobot top brass. It’s because he was funny. Liked to ride random alien beasts for fun, would take dares with Decepticons during truces, bad at card games but could be persuaded to play.
Ironhide’s optics widened as he took in Starscream’s frame dangling at Skywarp’s side.
“Triage, get your aft up here,” Ironhide called. A couple Autobots were roughly shoved aside as a medic looking to be in a foul mood appeared. He was garishly colored, Skywarp wondered if all ambulances were born unable to see colors.
“Don’t tell me you’re having me service a Con, I didn’t sign up for that,” he spat, looking at Skywarp with disgust. His expression soured even further when he saw Starscream.
“That,” Ironhide said, nodding to Starscream. “Is one hell of a P.O.W., you’re going to see to it that he survives to the best of your ability, or you’re receiving one hell of a write up for dereliction of duty. Do you hear me?” The last sentence was barked into the other mech’s face. Triage squared up to Ironhide, looking for all the world like he was seconds away from throwing punches.
Then he glanced at the faces of his fellow Autobots. Skywarp gathered Triage would be on his own should he decide to brawl with Ironhide. Autobots were like that, he knew. Rumors of instigating a successful mutiny were far more bountiful on their side.
Respect for a commanding officer, imagine that.
Seeming to realize his situation, Triage’s frame slumped as he turned towards Skywarp, motioning impatiently to Starscream’s frame and then to the ground. Gently, Skywarp laid Starscream out.
“Fraggin’ saving a Decepticon, what next, wipe Megatron’s aft?” Triage muttered. Ironhide pretended not to hear.
The medical examination turned into an autopsy as soon as Triage opened Starscream’s chest to get at his spark chamber. Doing that revealed the bit of scrap that went through Starscream’s vent had hit a major line, while the impact of the mine exploding had cracked his chamber. Pulling the scrap out had led to energon bleeding directly into Starscream’s spark, snuffing it out like a guttering candle in a breeze.
“So much for your P.O.W., he’s dead,” Triage snapped harshly, turning back to Ironhide and rising to a stand.
“Are we taking him in?” a bot behind Ironhide motioned to Skywarp. “He’s high profile, ain't he?”
Ironhide looked Skywarp over, considering. Skywarp couldn’t even pretend his facade of denial hadn’t been all that was keeping him together as he struggled to do anything but gaze into Starscream’s empty chamber.
“Nah, leave it.”
Skywarp understood the hidden clemency. Yes, some other higher up would probably want him turned in. Ironhide would let it go, today. Slowly, the Autobots turned, Ironhide marching to the front without sparing Skywarp another glance. Within a few minutes, they were gone. Skywarp was alone.
He wasn’t sure how long he spent, hunched over Starscream’s corpse. The planet’s sun had set, night was falling. Thundercracker’s voice crackled through his comm, strained with concern.
“Where are you? Is Starscream with you? Megatron isn’t happy.”
Panic bolted through him. He was dead. Dead as Starscream was. They would definitely see this as desertion, disobedience, or gross incompetence of some kind. Megatron would misdirect his rage at Starscream’s defiance and subsequent death at Skywarp.
As if this whole shoddy attempt had been his idea. Skywarp rubbed his face in agitation, looking at anything but the graying frame beneath him. The second in command of the Decepticon army was dead, and someone would have to pay for it.
Skywarp mulled over his options. He could blame it on the Autobots. He could ditch the body and play dumb. He had to do something.
He ended the comm with Thundercracker abruptly.
“I have to, oh pit, I have to,” Skywarp stared unseeingly at Starscream’s lifeless frame. He tried to imagine what Starscream would do in his situation. Probably melt him for scrap.
“I can’t bring you back to the ship,” Skywarp said to Starscream’s inert corpse. “I can’t.”
His comm started to crackle. He ignored it.
“I have to bury you. I can come back later for proper rites. What am I even going to tell Thundercracker?”
Skywarp’s comm crackled again.
“Oh pit, Thundercracker?” Skywarp felt a bolt of panic go through him as he realized he might not have hung up on Thundercracker after all. Thundercracker would definitely snitch him out-
“Skywarp,” a voice cracked through his comm, sounding slightly raspier than Thundercracker’s.
He would just leave the body, say he didn’t know what happened to Starscream. That he had to evacuate in a rush and left him behind. It wasn’t a great look, but if Starscream accidentally killed him he would probably-
“Skywarp,” the voice was louder, and wow, Thundercracker’s vocalizer was sounding a lot like-
“Skywarp!” Indisputably, Starscream’s voice roared through his comm system, leaving his audials ringing as Skywarp doubled over in pain from the feedback inside his aching helm.
“Augh!” he yelped, cradling his helm through the pain as he desperately tried to shut down his comm system. Despite his best efforts, his comm still crackled and popped.
“Skywarp, you fragging imbecile,” Starscream’s disembodied voice snarled. Skywarp bolted upright, spark whirling, tossing his gaze around the cliff frantically. His optics landed on Starscream’s lifeless frame.
“Starscream?”
“Yes, you aft! What are you doing? Get me back on the ship!” Skywarp attempted to lower his comm volume, but it didn’t seem to do much good.
“I can’t bring you back! They’re going to want an explanation. What am I going to tell them?” Skywarp said plaintively, as if appealing to Starscream’s nonexistent sympathetic nature ever worked.
“You are not going to bury me on this Primus forsaken planet! Bring me back to the Nemesis.”
“I can’t bring back your corpse! Let alone tell them what happened. Megatron will dismember me into scrap for disobeying a direct order!” Skywarp cried hysterically.
“A fitting punishment,” Starscream growled.
“I ought to just throw you off this cliff,” Skywarp snapped viciously in return, optics narrowing with newly kindled fury. “Maybe my escape plan didn’t work but I wasn’t the one that got us cornered. That was you! Thundercracker’s right, you don’t know when to just give up and follow orders.”
“I know when orders are useless, that wretch Megatron and his half-rotted processor-”
“I’m not going to the brig for you!” Skywarp yelled to the empty air. “I don’t care about Megatron. You’re just like him, a bad leader!”
In his anger he had begun charging up his warp drive, preparing to fling Starscream’s body off the cliff, anything to get his caustic trinemate away from him. He put his hand on the inert frame and a second or so before his warp drive fired off, Starscream’s optics flickered to life.
“What-” was all Starscream managed as he disappeared in a flash of purple, reappearing a few feet farther away, immediately dropping like a stone as Skywarp had successfully teleported him off the cliff.
Panicked with the prospect of killing Starscream a second time, Skywarp jumped off the cliff warping himself in brief spurts to catch up to Starscream. Just as Starscream was getting terrifyingly close to the ground, Skywarp grabbed him and the two of them went from being seconds away from death to being back on top of the cliff, flung horizontally at breakneck speed.
He held Starscream’s frame to him tightly as they impacted with the ground, the ugly scraping noise of his plating skidding against the rough terrain filling their audials. Skywarp’s wings were sure to be ruined, scratched to pit and littered with dents.
It was a brief moment of silence when the two of them finally came to a stop. Starscream then violently shoved himself away from Skywarp, breaking the grip Skywarp had on him as he sat up to glare down at him imperiously.
“Treachery,” Starscream grunted, his voice sounding more gratingly raspy than usual. His tone was laden with menace as he said, “I’ll have you in the brig till your wings rust off. Twice you’ve nearly killed me.”
Starscream was trying and failing to rise to a stand. He was off-balance and wobbly.
“I mean, technically I only nearly killed you once,” Skywarp corrected, unwisely. Starscream’s optics narrowed at his comment as he paused in his efforts to stand.
“I could have you killed. Insubordination. Inability to absorb briefings. Reckless disregard for life. Megatron would-”
A thought occurred to Skywarp as Starscream carried on with his criticisms and threats.
“But you don’t want him to know,” Skywarp said, eyeing Starscream shrewdly. Starscream paused, peering at his trinemate incredulously for a moment. He was listening, for once, Skywarp realized. Best not spoil the opportunity.
“You don’t want Megatron to know about this whole,” he gestured vaguely. “Thing. With your spark. Right? It’s probably pretty useful. Like if you ever end up on,” Skywarp mouthed “the list” not daring to actually say the thing aloud. Rumor was if you talked about it too often, dared to ever joke about it, Tarn would put you on it just to maintain his threat level.
“He wouldn’t dare,” Starscream snapped indignantly, tossing his helm up haughtily. But his expression grew more intense as he seemed to really mull over Skywarp’s words. “You bring up a salient point. What will it take for you to keep quiet?”
Bargaining. This was good.
“No punishment,” Skywarp said immediately.
“You certainly deserve some reproach,” Starscream challenged, but the real heat, the burning resentment, was gone out of his demeanor.
“And while I’m being reproached, I can’t help it if my thoughts get a little loud around Soundwave,” Skywarp said, trying and failing to suppress a smug smile.
“You traitorous little glitch,” Starscream seethed. Skywarp looked over his shaky, banged up frame, noting the exhaustion he saw glaringly apparent behind the thin veneer of anger.
Okay. Maybe Skywarp was being a little too resistant here. He had killed Starscream, even though it really had been a very earnest, accidental, and easy to make mistake.
“I’ll clean the hangar, top to bottom” Skywarp offered after a thoughtful pause, giving Starscream the duty that they both knew he detested more than anything else. It was petty, slightly sadistic, and might just be enough of a win to satiate Starscream’s aching pride.
“You’ll wax the floors,” Starscream said, eyeing Skywarp. “And clear out that equipment you’ve been promising to move to the lower decks for weeks. And-”
“Okay, okay,” Skywarp said, cutting Starscream off before he could add any more todos or think of something even more unpleasant.
“And” Starscream insisted, indignant at being cut off. “You won’t speak a word of any of this to Megatron or his lackies. None.”
“Okay, so what’s our cover story?” Skywarp asked, looking at Starscream expectantly.
“Figure it out,” Starscream said, letting the exhaustion creep into his tone as he waved Skywarp off. “I’m done cleaning up your messes today.”
“You’re not dying again, are you?” Skywarp meant it as a joke. It didn’t land.
“Unlucky for you, I am not,” Starscream glared.
Skywarp nodded mutely, then extended his hand to Starscream. Starscream looked at it like he wished for all the world it would rust off. Then, finally, he placed his hand into Skywarp’s. He teleported them to the hangar, where a disheveled looking Thundercracker awaited them.
“I thought you two had been captured or worse, Skywarp didn’t respond to comms and yours were offline,” he said, stepping into their personal space almost immediately, optics trained on Starscream for answers.
“You both look like slag,” he commented abruptly, glancing at them over. His optics caught on Starscream’s vent, widening slightly. Skywarp knew a fresh round of berating would start as soon as Thundercracker asked about it.
“Starscream,” a familiar deadpan voice called, causing a shudder to run through them all. Starscream glanced up warily to see Soundwave hovering at the entrance to the hanger.
“Your presence has been gravely missed. Megatron seeks a meeting.”
“Can he not wait until I’ve had some medical attendance?” Starscream snarled irritably, already walking towards Soundwave, knowing the answer before he spoke it.
“Negative.”
The two of them were gone within the next moment, leaving a haggard Skywarp and a befuddled Thundercracker.
“I think I’m going to pass out if I go another second without fueling,” Skywarp said.
“What happened out there? Why didn’t you follow the retreat order? Or respond to my messages?” Thundercracker questioned.
“Starscream,” Skywarp said shortly. And then teleported himself to the mess hall, leaving Thundercracker behind so he could enjoy some seldom desired quiet. The hall was empty. Most mecha had already fueled and were either turning in or pulling their nightly duty. Skywarp got his cube, sipped it, relishing in the wash of relief it sent to his aching systems, then he set it down on the table, staring at the rippling surface as it settled.
Skywarp picked up his cube, taking a long pull of it. He emptied it, gulping it down greedily, and returned to the machine, tapping in Starscream’s credential to get himself a second ration. He refused to fly drills tomorrow on a near empty tank all because Starscream had wanted to go on a futile bonus mission. Skywarp settled back down into his seat and started to sip his second cube, letting his thoughts fade over to lackadaisical ideation.
There had been something off that happened today. Starscream had definitely died. His spark had been gone, but his presence, not entirely. Sometimes Skywarp’s drive did weird things. Sometimes he saw strange beings, creatures, entities in the split second it took to teleport somewhere. He had never needed answers about that, he didn’t need to know all the secrets of Starscream’s spark, either, he decided.