Ep. 1 - The Midnight Crew - Closed

[Deleted]

Set the evening of “Guns and Horses!”

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Starscream stood on the flight deck of the Nemesis and wondered if he was doing the right thing.

Not the morally right thing. That was not something he took any real pains to concern himself with. The right thing tactically-speaking. Many of his short–term ploys had blown up in his face with distressing frequency recently. Or blown off his arm. Or beaten him half to death.

Not among his finest moments.

And so now he was wary. Very wary. Who could he trust. Well, that question was easy enough to answer - no one. Then who could he persuade himself to take into his confidence for as long as it took to further his own ends?

That was the real question. And it needed answering, fast.

He rattled his claws together behind his back in agitation. His mind raced. Two Decepticons, perhaps. Maybe three in a pinch if he kept his blaster idling. None of the Vehicons, of course. He could order them, he could command them, but ultimately he knew that for most of the drones the Decepticon war machine began and ended with Megatron. A bitter truth to acknowledge.

So, where did that leave him?

Standing here on the top of the Nemesis weighing his options, for starters.

Starscream scowled and paced a few strides. The Nemesis droned beneath his feet, its armoured deck rumbling with the pulse of the engines as they propelled the warship through the night time sky. Moonlight gleamed off the choppy water of the Pacific Ocean miles below. Wispy, tattered clouds drifted beneath the ship. They were miles up, far beyond the visual range of any vessels plying the ocean. The air was thin and bitterly cold. The warship cruised on minimal power, manned by a skeletal crew. The midnight crew.

At the edge of the deck Starscream stopped. He tapped his foot restlessly and glared down through the clouds.

Two Decepticons. Hm.

He focused his mind on one of them.

Not long ago he had thrown his authority around and seen to it that Jetfire had been prioritized on the list of those in need of repair. He had blathered some form of justification for the swap, although it had proven unnecessary - the Vehicon drones were relatively simple to fix and maintain, and casualties during the last encounter with the Autobots had been light. Getting the old mech pushed to the head of the repair list had been painless enough.

It could now prove useful. Old and cumbersome he may be, but Jetfire's mind was still sharp. It was a database of information. It could make him tedious to listen to at times. Starscream knew that all too well.

Hm...

It would be risky. But the ship had been damaged, torn apart, and Starscream was the only one who it existed. And where it had been scattered. He could reveal but a scrap of it at his leisure, and leave the rest an ancient secret, long crumpled and buried into the rock crust of this miserable planet.

His ancient secret. And his alone.

Starscream pensively scratched his claws together. He opened his internal comm.

"Jetfire, he growled. "Are you online? Meet me at the flight desk if you are. I've something to discuss with you."

[Deleted]

Jetfire's optics flicked open with the comm. It wasn't without some grumbling that he pulled himself from sleep mode, his servos creaking as he flexed them in front of him.

He closed his optics again, taking a moment to let his vision be clouded by his HUD. Error codes and alerts flooded his vision. His internal clock was stuck on zero, refusing to work properly with conflicting messages coming from Jetfire's own environment and the last online date he'd stored.

Online. It had been almost forever, but he'd felt it like he'd merely blinked. Things had changed, and the weight of time seemed to press on his frame with a heavy gloom.

He'd wasted a few more cycles just lying there too. The med crews had a hard time with him- the ice the Vehicon crew had pulled him from had certainly done it's damage. It was a miracle that the movement of the glacier hadn't split him slowly in half through the mega-cycles.

He mediated on the error codes dazzling his vision for several kliks before responding. "I can't believe I'm hearing that screeching vocabulator of yours again, Starscream." It was said with glyphs of genuine relief and companionship. The memories from his black box had reactivated first upon emerging from stasis. The view of his crash landing was still fresh on his processors. There was also the fact he was eons away from his original place in the time line. The strange frames and advanced tools he'd seen made him feel like an alien amongst his own.

Still. He was a Decepticon, and himself. There wasn't supposed to be much room for sentimentality there so he quickly added,  "Give an old mech a klik to gather his bearings. Did you lose your manners over all this time?"  After a pause he grumbled, still over the comm link,  "Certainly didn't gain any patience."

The med Bay was almost empty. He flexed on his berth, testing his servos before bringing himself, with maddening slowness, upright. His head still whizzed with errors and it look longer for his balance gyro to kick in than he'd anticipated, but he was blissfully functional.

So with a Symphony of creaking and not a little grumbling and swearing, Jetfire made his way to Starscream's location.

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"-poke me with that thing one more time and I'll rip it out of your frame with the servo still attached." The Seeker finally limped through the doors to the flight deck, but his eyes weren't on the waiting Starscream. He'd been followed by the assistant on duty from the med bay. She'd insisted that h he wasn't ready to leave the bay and had followed him as he wandered the Nemesis in search for his meeting.

Tiredly she changed her arm servo back to root mode. "If you can't walk on your own, there's something wrong with that leg servo. I need to-"

"Oh IS THERE? I hadn't noticed. Is that what the screeching was about?" His crackling vocabulator dripped with sarcasm and he leaned heavily on his bad knee, wincing as it sent error codes and a deafening screech echoing off the walls. He was leaning on his jackhammer. He'd used it for excavation in the past but today it was fully detached and he grasped it for support. He looked like a deranged tripod. "Fix it later. You don't have the parts anyway." Jetfire was massive in comparison to the little Vehicon. He did his best to loom as mountainously as possible before swiveling his head to his old companion. "Get this little drone away from me before I damage our army's numbers by one."

[Deleted]

Starscream stood back and watched as Jetfire made his rickety arrival upon the flight deck. A med drone trailed in his wake like a small moon. She must have followed him all from the med bay. A minor irritation, but one that was not without its own amusement as well.

He said nothing for a moment, and idly let the two banter back and forth for a while on their own. He took advantage of the distraction to size up the old robot with a critical eye. It was oddly good to see that Jetfire was on his feet and walking under his own power once again. He was limping, and leaned heavily upon his jackhammer, but he was functional and clear-headed, and prickly enough to be aggrieved by the unwanted attention he was getting.

Yes. It was a relief.

Jetfire looked thunderous now, and it seemed as if it was time for him to intervene before the old robot was ushered back to a berth to get that knee joint repaired. Or before the Nemesis was down one med drone.

"Return to the medical bay," said Starscream. He pointed back to the doors. "I will ensure that your patient is returned to you in due time."

Only when she was gone did he speak again. He eyed Jetfire up and down as he paced towards him, circling. "Are you fully functional? Most would have perished shortly after crashing in the Arctic. I see your prolonged imprisonment did nothing to improve your temper."

[Deleted]

“Acceptably functional,” he growled, his damaged vocabulator crackling. He vented, an irritable snort. “I’m a deep-space exploratory frame. I’ve got more survival protocols than a whole fleet of med-drones. You can’t expect me to be offlined that easily.” Still, his black box recollections replayed in the back of his processors. He felt lucky to be online, but he wasn’t about to admit that to his fellow Seeker.

Jetfire’s optics scanned the other Seeker’s frame. He didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his EMF. While he could still recognize his old comrade… he had received upgrades, and his frame, while still obviously Seeker-class, was unfamiliar. Not to mention the altmodes needed on this planet were absurd. He could barely make head or tail of them without a full scan- something he hadn’t bothered to do except on one unfortunate Eradicon. The drone had given him a violated look, and Jetfire had returned it with an ornery frown, and an offhanded comment about how unfortunate it was he’d chosen a ground-alt.

It had taken him a moment to realize that Starscream was circling him (Jetfire was significantly larger than him). His brow arches furrowed and he clenched at the jackhammer with impatient fingers. “Have you been downgraded to Lazerbeak programming? I suppose I should be glad to see you if you weren’t treating me like a mechavulture ready to pick me clean.” He straightened a bit, narrowing his optics and looming now in Starscream’s direction. They’d once been surveillance partners… but he had the feeling that things had changed. He remembered Starscream being eccentric for his station (“oddly ambitious”, Jetfire remembered labeling him), but there was a strange atmosphere here, his gaze changed.

Jetfire only glowered and loomed, waiting for an explanation. If he wasn’t going to be welcomed with open arms, he’d just return the suspicion.

OOC: Took liberties but Jets has been away for a long time- he crashed around the beginning of the war. Assuming Screamer has had some augments throughout the eons : P

[Deleted]

It was strange, but Jetfire's candor was oddly refreshing.

Starscream had become accustomed to - and sourly put up with - the usual attitude from his fellow Decepticons. Which was mostly wariness mingled with contempt, poorly disguised by a thin veneer of grudging respect. Sometimes that veneer could grow very thin indeed, at which point he found a missile to the back to be a handy little attitude adjuster.

It had been a long time since someone had growled to his face. Openly. Without insulting him by attempting to hide their disdain behind quips and sarcasm.

This was blunt honesty. It was... refreshing. Yes.

Of course, were it anyone else, Starscream would have gutted them for their impudence. But this was Jetfire, and he was different. Their long history together demanded that he deserved more than that.

Starscream came to a halt in front of Jetfire. He gave the old mech a critical look, his hands folded behind his back.

"You shouldn't think of it like that," he said. "I'm merely concerned for your welfare. If the medic drones have skimped on your repairs I want to know it immediately. You spent a long time trapped in that glacier, after all. A lesser mech would have succumbed to the cold and the pressure and the hopeless isolation centuries ago. But here you stand."

He hesitated, his optics darting. He clicked his talons uneasily. Even here on the flight deck of the Nemesis they were not safe from prying eyes. Soundwave watched everything that happened on the ship. Recorded it.

Starscream lowered his voice.

"For what it's worth, I am glad to see you," he said. "But I'm afraid the situation has changed since we last saw each other- and I called you here for more than a reunion. Can you fly? I must speak with you. Privately. Not here. Somewhere else. It is- important."


OOC: No worries, Mingo - it totally works!

[Deleted]

Jetfire harrumphed, taking the compliment as adequate penance. "They've done the best they can to an old frame like me. If they skimp, I'll be sure to let you know." He grinned slightly, sizing Starscream up as he looked about nervously. "You're still high strung, I see. Stop looking so suspicious before you hurt yourself."

As to flight... Jetfire took a moment to glance at the error codes cluttering the peripherals of his HUD. His systems told him he was adequate to transform. Flight seemed... passable. As long as they weren't involved in a dogfight, he believed that he could manage. Part of him also didn't care much about his status report. Built for a traveler's lifestyle, he was almost claustrophobic in med bay. The crowded cubicles and windowless interior almost drove his processors to fry.

He gestured to the open sky behind the fellow Seeker with a dismissive wave. "Go and I'll follow. I'm not sure how swift I can be but allow an old mech a night of air anyway. I dislike reminiscing in front of strangers, too."

[Deleted]

High strung? Starscream flattened his wings, put his fists on his hips and snorted, but without his usual rancour.

Inwardly, he was relieved. Despite his time in the ice, his friend so far seemed to be as sharp as he remembered. Knock Out had done a good job restoring the old Seeker to function. He would have to thank the doctor the next time he was in Medical.

"Heh! Very well," he said. He turned and leapt, the high altitude winds buffeting his frame before he transformed. The grey jet hovered briefly before its engine fired and it shot aloft, streaking through cloud as it rocketed into the sky. His voice ran through Jetfire's comm as he soared out of sight. "Then let's take a stroll and put a few hundred miles between us and the ship. The air has been stifling aboard it lately anyway."

Starscream climbed. At forty thousand feet the thin layer of cirrus cloud became a white field below, wispy and glowing beneath the light of the moon. The earth curved beneath him from horizon to horizon. Bitter cold air streamed over his wings. He drew a deep breath of it in through his intake and levelled out, throttling back to cruise as he did so. For thousands of miles around him the vast sky twinkled with distant airliners, ghostly reflections on his radar. Red and green and white navigational lights flickered amidst the stars.

Satisfied they were alone, Starscream turned his nose to the coast and scanned the skies behind him in search of Jetfire.

"Keeping up, old mech?" he said. He snickered. "Do tell me if you rupture a line. I'll drag you back to Knock Out and twist the good Doctor's arm a little harder."

[Deleted]

It took a vorn for him to reach the fellow Seeker. It was embarrassing, but if anyone could hold that ragged frame with pride it was Jetfire. He’d given up trying to match speed the instant his engines had coughed bitterly to life in midair. He watched the small jet disappear through the blanket of cirrus clouds, watching the glint of him. Jetfire took his own Pitted time with it, allowing his old comrade to worry. Starscream always needed some time to figure out how to loosen his own tightly wound gears, in Jetfire’s opinion. Let Starscream meditate while Jetfire adjusted to resurrection from the dead.

Even in the dim light, the landscape under him was alien. He’d surveyed the planet for several vorn before his fateful descent, but it was still stunning to him. He watched the shadowy landscapes as he ascended, for once turning off his scanners and simply watching.

He wobbled into level with Starscream, slightly behind him. “Definition of a ‘stroll’ seems to have changed over the deca-cycles,” he grumbled with affronted dignity. “And the next time I rupture a line it’ll be from me teaching you a lesson about high altitudes and close contact.” He pointedly put in a small burst of speed, his wingtip dangerously close to smacking the smaller jet out of the sky. Error codes whined at him about the small outburst, but he cheerfully ignored them. His vocabulator may be been gritty with annoyance, but his EMF pulsed ornery fondness.

Jetfire soared in silence a while, sorting out error codes halfheartedly but generally just feeling the freshness of freedom. He hoped it would be some time before he tired.

“It’s like the old days,” he said, looking up at the unfamiliar starfield. The speakers of his voice grated with age, and he felt strangely alone- separated by a gap in the timeline.

[Deleted]

Starscream did not reply right away. He settled in alongside Jetfire, his engine hazing the air.

His mind roamed.

Maybe it was the midnight sky, its vast field of diamond-bright stars glimmering high above them. Maybe it was the milky glint in that darkness that hinted to the presence of the galaxy that enveloped the tiny organic planet they flew over. Maybe it was the familiar shape of the coastlines that outlined the continental terrain below, vast plates of igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rock that were always moving, always flowing, even if you could not see it. Perhaps it was all of those things together that made him imagine, just for an instant, that he had caught the same glimpse into the past that Jetfire had.

He thought of soaring over raw new garden worlds, his sensors alive with the traces of a lush ecosystem in vibrant bloom. Or the twilight region of a tidally locked planet, skimming a field of frozen volatiles while tendrils of ice crept over his plating. Unbidden, an old feeling stirred, tiny and forgotten.

"Hm," he mused. "Perhaps."

Then he thought of the rest of the Decepticons waiting back on the Nemesis, and the mad urge to kick a satellite in half came right back.

"Pah!

Starscream snorted and flung himself through a snap-roll in frustration. "If only it were as simple as that! The two of us in the skies above a primitive and unexplored world again, without that tether back to Megatron and his pack of unruly ingrates. Sometimes, the old days truly were better."

[Deleted]

Jetfire watched his comrade’s antics with wry amusement. It had been ages, but Starscream seemed to have changed very little in the time. It was a small comfort after trying to settle into in an alien timeline.

“Never pleased, are you?” Jetfire asked, a chuckle in his voice. “Last I remember, you were rallying the forces to Megatronus. ‘Bring back the Golden Age!’ and all that. Now, second-in-command, and feeling strangled by your work.” His tone was amiable, but his EMF lightly shuddered with uneasiness. His time in the medbay had shown a very different side to the Decepticon cause than he could remember. He’d wanted to know more, but finding a way to enquire without looking unpatriotic was something he hadn’t figured out. It was a bit of a shock to hear the second-in-command have such an unpatriotic outburst.

Starscream himself had been the final straw in swaying Jetfire to the Decepticon cause. It was an inevitable choice, considering his conservativism and longing for his own ‘old days’ of the Golden Age… but it would have been much longer had Starscream not thrown his opinions at his old friend. Perhaps it as unfortunate that Jetfire’s entrance to the war is what sent him to his icy doom on this planet- but the old Seeker was not one to twist a grudge.

He remembered Starscream’s eager climb to power. He’d admired his partner’s… eagerness, but he’d also been baffled by it. One thing to desire change and another to be the leader of it. It came as a shock to him to hear he’d finally ascended as far as was possible- second-in-command. He’d asked several drones for confirmation as he’d lay on a berth, waiting for med checks. It was used to the notion by now… and was very aware that his old partner was not popular among the ranks.

Jetfire had chalked this up to low recruits handled efficiently under a stern hand, but it made him all the more wary to speak to his old friend about politics.

Aged as he was… he had a lot to learn. “If your station treats you so harshly, why not return to your old work?” He knew the answer, but it was the safest thing he could think to say. Jetfire knew it wasn’t easy to discard power… And Starscream’s glowing desire to take Cybertron back to a proper rule was admirable. Perhaps he’d kept his position in that eternal effort.

…he didn’t know what to think.

OOC: Making up history! Whooooo…[?]

[Deleted]

"In a word? Shockwave."

Starscream grunted sourly. He rolled level, throttling back before he shot ahead of the other Seeker in annoyance. He drew level with Jetfire, flying just off his wingtip. "That lumbering... purple... cyclops has effectively seized control of the entire science wing. I'm sure he has been promoted to the rank of Chief Science Officer by now. Even I don't have complete access to all of the projects he's concocting in his lab. I'm sure he would debate that following stringent high-level security protocol for the worst of them is merely the... logical sequence of action."

His voice lowered into a credible imitation of Shockwave's deadpan inflection. Except for the sarcasm.

The grey jet scoffed.

"Feh! Perhaps once we return to Cybertron I shall turn back to the old work - our old work. But first, we must ensure that Cybertron is properly restored for us to return to. Megatron's war once tore it apart. There seems little point in resuscitating ashes, or relying upon the taint of Dark Energon to revive them. We can't wait for the core to mend itself. We need to discover a way to reinstate a fit ruler who will oversee the planet's reconstruction to greatness, to another Golden Era free from the absurd caste system. Then there will be at last a place for such mechs as you and I once were."

Starscream eyed his companion, not without some curiosity. "I suppose now it's my turn to ask... do you intend to return to the old work now that you are free from the ice?"

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OOC: XD History is fab, I love it!

[Deleted]

Jetfire’s anxious EMF relaxed slightly. War politics were complicated, but office politics were petty and somewhat amusing. He remembered Shockwave well. Not the most popular of mechs, but Jetfire knew who to report to when his reports were finished, at least. Maybe Starscream would get worked up about it, but Jetfire was content letting the higher-ups bicker. Even if Starscream used to be a peer, the older Seeker was at ease leaving him to throw his tantrums. “That’s very good,” he chuckled, admiring the impersonation. “Seems he hasn’t changed much. I used to report to him anyway. Eons don’t change much, hm?” His tone faded from cheerful to glum. If the destruction of his once-thriving home planet wasn’t much change…

He’d forced himself not to dwell on the massive loss the vorn had caused. It was almost too much for his processors to handle. The surviving mechs had gradually been acclimated to this news… they’d lived through it. The old Seeker had trouble comprehending the sheer scale of the war in this day and age. One cycle had given him up to a soft-shutdown sequence, his processors needing a long period of defragging to even deal with the psychological toll of it all. He’d trained himself to a sort of blank meditative state that he’d been prone to on long deep-space journeys… But it was much easier to sink into when surveying… not when forced to stare at the same iron plate abode his helm while he lay inert on a berth.

Jetfire had longed to be out and surveying again, though he’d hardly given a thought to it as work. He took a moment to think before responding. “Of course. I suppose I was waiting to recover properly.” He paused, unsure. “Not… sure how this old frame will do…. if I don’t get back to work again. My circuits will fry if I’m stuck on berth much longer.”

[Deleted]

Starscream sobered.

"Believe me, getting you off that berth and back among us has been one of my highest priorities," he said. "One that, I regret, had become buried as of late among the usual arguments and distractions, from the Autobots and from within the ranks. I cut across protocol to see you moved up the list of those awaiting treatment from Knock Out, and I'm sure the good Doctor is now quite smug in the fact that I owe him a favour for it. A small favour."

He harumphed. "However, I don't regret it. I- we needed you back. Which brings us to the present..."

He fell silent. For a moment the grey jet flew tensely, uncertain. He rode out light turbulence without saying a word, while a long white contrail crystallized in the air behind him. He seemed to be grappling with something.

Finally, Starscream said in a low voice, "There is work for you here, work that needs to be done. Much of it falls under the broad category of the greater Decepticon objective here on Earth. But there is also work that I need to do, apart from that. No one knows of it but I, and now you - if you're willing to help me. If you are, there's something I'd like to show you. It's for this purpose that I suggested this flight."

After a pause he grudgingly added, "Well, that and... for old time's sake."

[Deleted]

Jetfire suppressed a chuckle at the minute sentimentality. He knew Starscream wouldn’t react well to it, so he merely flew, his EMF warming with a familial cheeriness. “Make it a very small one. His berthside manner is only slightly better than Shockwave’s.” There was once he’d had minor repairs done before a deep apace mission, managed by the scientist mech himself… it had been an interesting cycle.

Jetfire was content to let Starscream be pensive. He reviewed his own status report- things were running well. He was impressed with his care. While the facilities didn’t mirror the workstations he was used to on Cybertron, it seemed that there had been certain medical advancements he’d been quite lost on. The tools used (at least the ones used while he’d been conscious) were new and… to say the least, disconcerting. Still, he was cruising without much trouble, and his repairs had been swift.

He was fortunate Starscream had been as ambitious as he was… perhaps he’d still be on berth… or worse… if he wasn’t…

-It was even better to be considered for serious work again. “It would be good to serve Megatronus again. Properly.” His voice was content and completely free of his pervious weariness. The night air and the chance to work in his future was all the therapy he needed.


OOC: Jetfire has always been very conservative and patriotic. Black and white. Just pointing it out for history’s sake. Screamer will probably want to dance around the Megatron vs. Starscream’s vision issues

[Deleted]

"Of course," said Starscream hastily. "Er, yes. It is always a privilege to serve Lord Megatron."

He trailed off, evidently at a loss for anything further to say.

They flew in companionable silence, side by side. The light cirrus cloud parted around them, feathery ice crystals that swirled in the wake of their wingtip vortexes. The air was crisp and thin and cold; beneath them the horizon curved like a rind, dark and speckled with the lights of a hundred different cities. Far in the distance a lone airliner flew past them, its navigational lights glowing off its belly and wings. It vanished within minutes, and they were alone again.

Eventually, Starscream shook himself out of his reverie. He waggled his wings, as if throwing aside his unspoken thoughts.

"But here is a question," he said. He spoke gravely, without a trace of his usual scorn. "I'm curious. Humour an old friend. If you had a chance to live free of the factions, of Megatron, of the war - on this planet or another - would you take it? Or would you find yourself returning to our Lord's side? Is it there that you find satisfaction in your existence - or is it elsewhere? Is it in servitude, or in science?"


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*thumbs up!