Chapter Text
This was not the first time Starscream had been shot out of the sky, and it would likely not be the last. This isn’t to say it was a common occurrence, but this war had raged on long enough; sooner or later everyone had suffered similar fates.
The seeker felt his processor go in and out, optics flickering as he fell. There was a brief moment of weightlessness followed by dread inducing warnings informing him his altitude was rapidly dropping. Barely lucid, Starscream sent commands to his thrusters to engage, but they went unreceived. Another ping about rapidly decreasing altitude, but there was no pulling up. In a final mercy to himself Starscream forced a shutdown. His optics flickered off and body went completely limp. At least if he was unconscious, he would not feel the impact with the ground.
There are brief flashes of cold overhead lights. A white and red mech, medical tools in his servo. Another flash of blue and red. The pain is slowly creeping in, starting at the base of his wings and radiating through the rest of his body. It is not yet unbearable.
When Starscream is finally able to online his optics, he is met with a small cell. In the corner there is a small berth, though it lacks any thermal tarps or pillows—it serves as an only slightly better alternative to the metal floor. Three of the four walls are a similar metal. The final wall is mostly taken up by a pale greenish-blue glow, a force field trapping him in the cell. Next to it is a medium-sized slot that allows for his captors to slide in a cube of energon. For now, it sat empty.
With creaky legs, Starscream stood, entire frame straining under its own weight. He weakly plodded forwards, the quiet buzz of the force field becoming louder. He could not see much further down the hall in either direction, what was clear however, was that he remained alone. No prisoners, no guards, just him and the quiet hum of the lights.
Starscream slowly stepped backwards until his turbines and wings hit the wall. Weakly he slid down until he found himself sitting on the floor, helm hanging low as he stared into his own lap.
— — —
“This is a bad idea.”
It was a sentiment many seemed to share. This was a single prisoner whose capture warranted a meeting with all members of Autobot High Command.
“Lest we forget this is Starscream we’re talking about. As if the mech himself wasn’t enough of a threat, just having him here is putting us all at risk.” Elita continued.
“Megatron is going to come looking for him, if he doesn’t escape on his own first. We should have just left him where we found him.” Jazz frowned, glancing down at the datapad in his servo. It detailed any and all information the Autobots had on the Decepticon’s second in command, from a physical description to any information they had on his life before the war.
“If he escapes he could give the Decepticons valuable intel on our base location.” Ultra Magnus murmured, gaze lowering as his processor began to run through all the various ways an escaped Starscream could cost them in future battles.
“I assure you all, Red Alert is keeping a very close eye on him.” Prowl’s tone remained even and cold. “That being said. I do think tightened security in the brig is necessary.”
“Like what? A full time guard or something?” Elita asked.
“At least.” Prowl scoffed.
“Our resources are already spread thin. Do we have enough personnel for that?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“We will alternate until a more permanent solution presents itself.” Optimus finally spoke. High Command turned their helms towards the prime.
“Well that settles that. What about questioning? This is the Decepticon’s second in command we’re talking about. Starscream surely has battle plans or other classified info we haven’t been able to dig up yet.” Jazz said, looking to Prowl.
“What makes you think he’ll talk?” Elita asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.
“Please, this is Starscream. He has no loyalty!” Jazz tossed a servo on the air.
“This is Starscream. He is loyal only to himself. He will cut the best deal he can and run, and there is no scenario where revealing information to us gives him favorable odds by the time he goes crawling back to Megatron.” Prowl grumbled, tapping a finger on the table as his processor raced, trying to conjure anything worthwhile about this.
“Who’s to say he’ll go back to Megatron?” Jazz asked.
“Where else would he go?” Prowl countered.
The room went quiet, each bot stirring in their own thoughts.
“Unless we don’t let him go…after questioning, that is.” Prowl started.
“You suggesting we just keep him prisoner forever?” Jazz asked with a tilt of his helm.
“Not exactly…” Prowl’s optics shyly glanced over at the prime. It did not take long for him to realize what was being implied.
“Under no circumstances will we be murdering a prisoner of war!” Optimus boomed, uncharacteristic anger casting nervous discomfort throughout the room.
“Optimus, Prowl might have a point.” Elita frowned, setting a servo on the mech’s shoulder comfortingly. “Starscream is one of the most dangerous mechs alive, maybe too dangerous. He’s unpredictable and any interaction with him is a risk.”
“I will not yet sacrifice my morals, if we kill him then we are no better than the Decepticons.” Optimus sighed, pushing himself to his peds. “Starscream will remain alive and under our care, we will provide him with amicable conditions, and there will be no unethical treatment towards him. Prowl, Ultra Magnus, I’d like you two to start collecting any information from him you can. I will see that Ratchet provides him with adequate amounts of fuel and that he is able to heal properly. Anything else?”
The others remained quiet, silent glances around the room. It seemed that harboring one of the most notorious Deceptions alive was bound to cause some controversy. Who could have seen that coming. With that the Prime sighed.
“Meeting adjourned.”
— — —
Despite his (admittedly well earned) reputation as a treacherous coward, Starscream had yet to crack. Joors of questioning by Prowl and Ultra Magnus had turned out to be fruitless. He never uttered a single word. In fact—Starscream had barely offered either of them more than a second glance. Instead he kept his optics forward, their red glow boring into the wall while his audials tuned out the string of words leaving the other mechs’ intakes. Whatever they wanted, they would not be getting—Starscream was sure of that.
Questioning aside, the autobots had been…how to describe it…unnervingly diligent in his care. It was a variable the air commander had not taken into consideration until he found consistent opportunities to refuel. Of course he abstained. After all, he was a prisoner. Who’s to say they were not trying to poison him?
“Didn’t know you were watching your figure, Screamer.” Mirage—Starscream’s current guard on shift—jeered. The seeker’s wing involuntarily twitched in irritation, jaw tight and dentae grinding uncomfortably against each other. Usually, he would have better control over his body. Unfortunately, this particular bot had a real knack for finding just the right buttons to push.
“S’alright, s’alright, just means more for me!” Mirage slid the untouched cube back across and outside the cell. As tempted as he was to simply down the energon as it was, doing so would certainly earn a harsh talking to from Ratchet—something about not wasting such a valuable resource. How Starscream refusing to eat at all didn’t count as a ‘waste of resources’ Mirage had yet to piece together. Not through lack of trying of course.
“You know, for being such a talkative glitch on the battlefield, you sure are quiet in the cell. Wonder why that is.” Mirage continued to think aloud, pacing back and forth outside the cell. Starscream forced his wings to remain still, doing his very best to keep Mirage from getting under his plating. He just needed to keep his cool until he could either find a means of escape or until a rescue team retrieved him. Hopefully, neither of those things would take too long. If all his captors were as irritating as this one, he wasn’t sure he’d last a week.
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