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CHARACTERS:Starscream and open to anyone! LOCATION: Nondescript forested location with a lake. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a PLOT SUMMARY: Starscream enjoying a brief respite from his straining duties as SIC to get some air time.
Though the lulling mechanisms of the Nemesis are often enough for him to feel relatively at home, nothing about the ship could actually be considered all that comfortable when it comes down to it. At least, not to somebot with such a wingspan like himself. Cycles spent cooped up in his quarters, on the bridge could only make for an anxious flier. Starscream had needed relief, urgently.
Earth is not as attractive as some of the city-states back on Cybertron, the organic nature of its organisms being quite undesirable, but it does have some excellent places for free-flying. For hours now, the seeker had been enjoying the freedom his alt-mode gave him.
He surges through the air without hindrance, cutting across the sky in the vague semblance of old, forgotten seeker patterns he once knew. Spirals, loops and corkscrews accent his little show, dynamic movements that might have been impressive had they not been fledging’s play. To up the ante, the seeker’s thrusters expel a massive amount of force to propel him up into the atmosphere, all the while spinning 360’s in rapid succession, his wings leaving sharp, white vapor trails in their wake.
In a great, sweeping arc, the jet then begins to nosedive towards the large, crystalline body of water beneath him. He allows himself to gain incredible speed before pulling up at the last klik so as he shoots across the length of the lake, the belly of his alt-mode skims the cold surface, the splash of water registering on his neural net as gratuitous relief from the undoubtedly burning flight sensors.
Mid-air, once Starscream reaches the bank he begins to transform. He reaches out the heel of his ped first, using shock stabilizers to meet the ground. Even so, he does hit it rather hard. Dirt and grass fly up in his wake, splattering his leg plating with softened earth as he skids to a complete halt.
Immediately, he registers that his fans are on their highest setting, ex-venting heat in an attempt to cool his systems after his intense flight. Red optics glance back at his mud trail with a kind of smug satisfaction. Perhaps a less graceful landing than his usual, but, Primus, the amount of time he had spent practically grounded back on the Nemesis makes him deserving of a little recklessness.
This all could be seen as a bit juvenile in retrospect, but—nobot necessarily had seen him, right?
Starscream may have hated earth, but Steeljaw had mixed feelings in regards to the organic world. In one way, he hated it for it was not the planet he called home. On the other hand, it was an entirely different world; One that he could take control of with a little effort.
Of course, it wasn't a job that he could simply do alone, and even the wolf wasn't afraid to admit that. He'd need a crew, no.. an army. Perhaps even an empire. These Autobots were in his way, and the more he could sway to his side the better. The best start was to go for his imprisoned brothers and sisters from aboard the Alchemor, but finding them all would be no easy task. There were over two hundred of them on that crashed ship.
And that's what had brought Steeljaw to this place. By no means would all the escaped prisoners be centralized in Crown City's vicinity, which meant he would need to go places to collect them all. For the moment he merely rested, leaning back against a tree as he stared towards the lake.
That's when he heard the sound of a jet flying over. At first he thought nothing of it and simply ignored it, but then he heard the familiar sound of one transforming. Such a sound couldn't be shrugged off, and Steeljaw watched from his little hiding spot. He had heard of Megatron, no question (who hadn't), but this one.. if his research had been correct, was this the one known as Starscream?
Oh, how gratuitous of a day it would be if it really were him. If he could successfully gain favor with this one.. then perhaps he could seek audience with Megatron! And if that were the case, then.. oh, the wolf was too overjoyed to even think about the power he could gain. All he had to do was play every single move carefully.
Stepping out from his hiding spot amidst the trees, he slowly approached Starscream, a poker face ever so clear. "Excuse me, but would you happen to have a moment to spare?" His slashed Decepticon markings might raise red flags towards the Decepticon seeker, but Steeljaw had plenty of excuses up his figurative sleeves, though his markings did have a legitimate reason for being damaged.
Even over the roar of cooling fans, the telltale weight of pedsteps hitting the ground is loud enough for his audial receptors to catch. Starscream scrambles rather ungracefully towards its source, a flipping of his wings and frame so violently it almost hurts, his flight sensors overly sensitive still.
Regaining lost composure in degrees, a light blue frame appears from the foliage line, its biolights shining red and yellow. Namely however, the optics of its owner glowed the same jarring yellow as a certain Predacon he knows. The mere thought makes his lip plates twitch in beginnings of a scowl, and even though he is a bit filthy from the knee joints down and the perspiration from the atmosphere and lake still clings to his plating, Starscream straightens himself rigidly.
His visage flashes unkindly towards the approaching mech, flaring his wings wide to compensate for his lack of bulk. His optics narrow with the descent of his browplates in unconcealed suspicion as he carefully roves over the other’s chassis. No sign of an Autobot emblem, but—
“Ah, and what’s that there?” Ignoring his question, Starscream asks his own in a scrutinizing, drawling tone. An index claw roughly jabs in the direction of the other’s shoulder plating where the Decepticon insignia has been scored.
“I’m not sure you have business with me, parading around with that on your chassis.” He flicks his wings dismissively alongside the curl of his intake in a very clearly threatening way, puffing out his chest armor to show his own unblemished marking of his allegiance.
“ALLLLLRIGHT ROOKIES,” Sergeant Coal had shouted to all the troops standing in attention, “Since y’all haven’t died YET, I have decided that you’re worth my time to organize a training program so that you can LIVE LONGER, or more like it, DIE BETTER! “I’ve planted these little gizmos around this entire sector. Yes, the one I’m pointing at on the screen! Anything within that big fat ‘ol circle is loaded with these little objects with red blinking lights. YOUR MISSION FOR THE NIGHT IS TO GRAB AS MANY AS YOU CAN WITHIN THE HOUR. There’s about 50 of these little suckers and about 200 of you, so get goin’ yah lil’ buggers! I WANT ALL 50 OF THESE COLLECTED! Whoever shows up with the least amount of these gets maintenance duty for FOUR WEEKS! NOW FOR MEGATRON’S SAKE, GIT GOIN’ NOW!”
-after exiting the Nemesis-
Sev walked through the woods carefully, quietly letting himself be swallowed whole by the shadows. One rookie black ops vehicon had been searching the entire 5 mile radius that the Sergeant had pointed out for the last twenty minutes. Sev had only found two of the small purple rods that had the Decepticon insignia painted on it(and sure enough, that ‘red blinking light’), which meant somewhere out there, was still 48. Assuming no other vehicons ahd found the rods. This wasn’t the first time Sev had been introduced to one of Sergeant Coal’s little training sessions, so the vehicon was prepared for little two foot tall drones to crawl out of nowhere and detonate on the spot. Fortunately, the explosion was just a bunch of bright pink paint that was splattered all over the victim. Anyone caught with just a speck of the stuff was disqualified and doomed to be on scrubbing duty for weeks.
It was Coal’s way of getting as many vehicons as he could to clean the Nemesis spick-and-spam, with as few victors as possible. Sev was determined to not be one of those unfortunate souls. Plus, more time working meant he spent less time with Pyro…
Sev grunted, resuming his attention to the task at hand. He was about to proceed past the lake when he heard the echos of conversation. Instantaneously, the vehicon ducked down deeper into the blackness of the night, before his visor adjusted to see who was there. A strange wolf-like mech and the Decepticon SiC. As Sev’s visor zoomed in on the two, he noticed two of those rods in the general area, meters away from the two talking Decepticons. Sev sighed inwardly. As luck would have it, he had two reasons to approach the two. He was curious about what they spoke of, and he needed those gizmos. Scans indicated no other vehicons had entered the area yet. This was a golden opportunity to lay off the scrubbing. Sev dimmed his visor, and hence began to navigate soundlessly through the woodlands, closer and closer to the two conversing mechs, his audios strained to their conversation as he neared them. He had no bio lights, and was quite careful where he stepped. The wolf-like mech’s long ears probably weren’t just for show.
Somehow, Steeljaw hadn't been the least bit surprised that the slender mech made a quick jab at his damaged Decepticon marking. His face took on a look of annoyance at the harsh poke, but relaxed into a dull look as the mech continued to speak.
Nothing to talk about, oh on the contrary~.
"I'll have you know that once a prisoner is taken aboard an Autobot prison ship, they fit your insignia with a tracking mechanism should there be an escape. Most never figure out that little trick, but they couldn't fool me quite so easily. That is the reason for their damaged state, and I wouldn't mine having them re-made one day."
Steeljaw wasn't afraid of Starscream, even with how aggressive the other's demeanor seemed. The wolf didn't scare easy, and he wasn't about to let the Decepticon SiC be the first.
He placed a clawed hand over his chest, the tips just barely touching his windowed bits. "Pardon the rude introduction. I am Steeljaw." His smile grew, a strange mixture of wicked and sincere warring across his faceplate. All he had to do was get the guy to trust him. It might not be easy, but he had to give it a shot. As he attempted to keep his straight face going, his right ear flicked. Strange.. Why did it feel like there was someone else here?
It was best to keep his attention on Starscream for now, but he would be keeping a trained audio out for anyone listening in.
Pursing his lip plates in the beginnings of a snarl, the jet flicks his wings quite dismissively, causing the excess condensation to scatter around him in a halo. At his explanation, Starscream ex-vented in what could have been the equivalent of an unimpressed scoff, though he does raise one brow plate nonetheless.
Re-made, the air commander reflects internally in his own musing, suspicion high in his processes; does this orphan really think he can just saunter up to him and ask to join the Decepticon ranks? Get his precious little emblem fixed? After all, who knows what his intentions actually are!
"Steeljaw." Starscream tests the name aloud in severe judgement and then proceeds to shrug with all the care of about a fourth of his spark. "I've never heard of you."
"I've": the emphasis is there, the importance of being known to, of all bots, Starscream, second-in-command Decepticon. Surely, if a mech is of any value their name would have crossed his processor before. His electromagnetic field bleeds with his haughty disposition, and he crosses his servos behind his spinal struts and dims his optics rather boredly.
Steeljaw appears to be one of those Cybertronians who reflects the design of an alien organism, he notes, as he views the twitching, thick audial receptors, likely to magnify sound. Starscream cannot help but be slightly put off by that, drifting to memories of other wretched bots who had either chosen or not chosen similar chassis designs: Airachnid, that traitorous scum, and then, more distantly (so distant as to be from old memories of Cybertron), another bug known as Wasp. The very thought of resembling organic life makes his spark chamber tight with disgust.
"So, Steeljaw, since you've somehow miraculously escaped from Autobot clutches, what are you going to do now...?" Starscream asks, too caught up in addressing the bot in front of him to notice the peering optics from afar.
Eaves dropping was something balck-ops vehicons did as a specialty, to come in undetected and to linger without being noticeable. Sev was an elite stealth operative(or as elite as experimental drones could be), thus, he ventured nearer. Still. Overhearing Decepticon high-command talks weren’t in the routine, and he didn’t often like to be accused of the crime of overhearing data that was not supposed to reach his audios. This wolf-decepticon though. Sev had never seen him before, and he’d patrolled the Nemesis every other shift. Starscream didn’t look as if he was enjoying the mech’s presence either. Sev’s red visor was dimmed another few hues blacker, as he approached both the Sic and the stranger. He then halted one he could hear their conversation, kneeling to the ground after making sure no leaves or twigs were located there to cause any cover-blowing sounds. The mech keened his audios, straining them as hard as he could so he could listen to what was being said.
“-That is the reason for their damaged state, and I wouldn't mine having them re-made one day."
Sev furrowed a brow. What? He’d come in right in the middle of the discussion/ The words he just heard piqued his curiosity, as he patiently waited for the next words. He kept himself ducked low to the ground. He was far enough away that the blackness of the forest absorbed him entirely, the only thing that gave him away was the extremely dim glow of his visor. Sev kept the visor on to enhance his vision, and to study the hand gestures as well as facial expressions of the two cons.
“Pardon the rude introduction. I am Steeljaw."
Interesting name. Though it was quite fitting: ‘jaw’ was probably there because he had a very distinct one. ‘Steel’ was there likely to indicate he was constructed of solid metals. Perhaps, his jaw was in particular. Or I’m just being too literal.
"Steeljaw. I've never heard of you."
I knew it. Sv19 thought to himself. So Starscream didn’t like the looks of this mech entirely either. Listening to his words meant that this mech could very well be a rogue Decepticon….
"So, Steeljaw, since you've somehow miraculously escaped from Autobot clutches, what are you going to do now...?"
Sev didn’t like how this ‘Steeljaw’ was looking at the SiC of the Decepticons. Sev could tell Steeljaw had come for something, and his voice seemed to trickle with the slightest element of desire. A throwing knife slipped into Sev’s servo from his gauntlet, never releasing any ample amount of sound. If Sev was programmed to be a bit of an assassin. It was a part Sev hadn’t played in a long while, but if this mech was going to think of laying a servo on Starscream, he had another thing coming.
The key to this conversation was keeping that poker face. Steeljaw couldn't retaliate in anger, no matter what. Deep down, he hated the way Starscream was talking to him, and he just wanted to lunge at him. However, gaining the Seeker's trust, even if just a small fraction, would benefit him if he could successfully pull it off.
At the same time, though, Starscream not knowing anything about him was both a good thing and a bad thing all at once.
"I wouldn't expect someone of such high caliber as you to know someone as 'lowly' as myself. I was but one of many, hundreds, aboard the Alchemor prison ship controlled by Autobots. Put of course, they couldn't keep me contained and I was easily able to escape." Naturally, the wolf mech had come prepared in the inevitable questioning of how smart he was if he was captured in the first place, but he'd let the question come naturally. For now he could only do his best to stay one step ahead.
That in itself was not going to be easy when it came to the Decepticon Second in Command.
What was he going to do now that he was 'miraculously' free from the Autobots? Oh, that was a simple question. "My priority, for the moment, remains to free the other prisoners from the Alchemor. As you see, the ship crash landed, and all of the stasis pods were scattered, which is what brought me here. As there were over 200 prisoners on board, certainly they could not have all been centralized around the crash site. Some are back in Autobot custody, but they won't be for long. Once freed, there will be plenty of us to aid in Lord Megatron's quest to take this world, as well as any other he wishes to conquer."
Emphasis was definitely on the 'lord', but there was no need to tell the mech that he had his own agenda when it came to these prisoners. Even still, he still couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Even with their observer staying quiet, he kept his ears on high alert, just to be safe.
One little sound, one slip up.. That's all it would take to alert this mech.
At the praise, Starscream simply cannot help himself: his vents putt pleasantly, the cuirass armor of his chassis swells perhaps with the very essence of his spark, and the tips of his wings twitch upward favorably. In addition to this show of satisfaction, his EM field practically glows with it. He’s always been a glutton for compliments. Though, there is only so much fluffing up you can do with the seeker before inherent paranoia seeps into his processor.
Whatever this Alchemor ship is he’s never heard of it, never heard of Steeljaw, never heard of these lost 200 he speaks of.
“Somehow,” Starscream begins, his facial plates twisting with cruel distrust, “all of this is news to me, Air Commander to the Decepticon cause, second-in-command to our great leader, Megatron. And, you, Steeljaw, happen to be the only Decepticon who has escaped. Now, that is curious…
"Is there something I’m missing here? Some unknown bit of knowledge that you wish to bestow upon me?” Starscream smiles in an almost sweet way, though to sickly to be considered genuine.
Sev continued to listen to the conversation. His visor’s close-up shots gave him the notion that Steeljaw knew he was around, or hand a hunch at least. Sev was glad he’d spent the first few decades of his life training for stealth situations like these. His fuel pump was pulsing energon through his veins at a fast speed, despite Sevs level headed nature. He hadn’t actually done something like this before. Real spying and two real, unknowing subjects. He was fulfilling the destiny that had been embedded in all the programming he had! He was succeeding! Then Sev’s optics located those two totems he had been looking at moments ago. The two mechs seemed occupied. He needed the totems if he were to have more free time to spend with his friends—and show those grimy veteran vehicons that he was worth more than a janitor. Sev lowered his shoulder as he gave a long blink. His time to get the totems was running out with each passing moment.
Foresight told him if he was going to get caught, then he’d need an excuse. If the wolfish one asked, he technically didn’t have to answer. But the Decepticon SiC? It was protocol to not lie, and vehicons simply couldn’t. otherwise they wouldn’t be trustworthy soldiers. Sev wondered how non-programmed mechs did it sometimes…but wishful thinking wasn’t getting him those totems. Especially not the one two meters behind the wolf. Another totem was also in the rout he was taking, he could see it’s blinking light. He’d just have to be careful.
With a claymore still in his servo in case this strange, sly-looking wolf tried to use his more powerful body to his advantage on Starscream, Sev took one calculated step after another. He moved with the shadows, staying low to the ground , making sure every small vent never emitted more than the darkness around him. Little by little, he inched closer. Seconds turned to centuries as he approached, ducking lower to the ground once to pick up the first totem. The second was just behind the wolf now. Sev was so close. The vehicon continued to creep, taking special caution to not be heard---then he heard an all too familiar click.
Sv19 you idiot.
The vehicon had been too focused on the two mechs, and listening in on their conversation. He’d set a trap laid by Sergeant Coal. He had to act quickly. The ball instantly rolled out from behind a tree, about to blow. Sev acted faster than he could think. As the sphere surrendered its vocer, his foot swung forth, sending it flying away from him—and right for the two talking Decepticons. The kick had been powerful enough that the sphere full of bright pink paint was going to explode to their left. It was far enough away from them that they’d get splattered on their legs and arms lightly.
Sev stood, meters behind the wolf, with his claymore in one hand, and the other clenched tightly around a totem. He silently prayed to Megatron for the strength and wisdom to face the wrath of the SiC, and to come up with a good explanation for what had just happened.
Somehow all news to Starscream. Oh there's many ways that Steeljaw could twist it, but many of which were sadly not going to be effective. The easiest would have been to state that perhaps Megatron wasn't filling him in on all the details. Of course that would never work! Unless.. he twisted it further. Perhaps Megatron truly didn't know about the Alchemor or any other prison ship out there. Regardless, the wolf was going to have to be careful.
However, perhaps he could weasel his way around the 'being the only one to escape' bit.
"With all due respect, I'm quite certain that with as many Decepticons as there are, keeping track of every single one would be quite an arduous task. I was the only one who escaped, at least.. as far as I am aware. There were a rather large number of us on that ship.. the Autobots posting only Mini-Con guards around the ship at all times."
No fear embraced him as Starscream grinned. Not even a twinge of unease struck him. There was plenty he could tell, much he would hold back for another day. Steeljaw kept his poker face up, his grin never faltering. "What if I were to tell you that I know something that would be of great benefit to you and to Lord Megatron? While I have been freeing out Decepticon brethren one at time, I've had to deal with a small group of Autobots in the area, lead by an inexperienced Autobot named Bumblebee. I know how much Lord Megatron would love the chance to ruin an Autobot's day, and I recently discovered just whe-."
Before he could even finish his bold claim to Starscream (which had actually been truth), the wolf heard a click. The mech instantly whipped around, sneering at the source of the sound. There stood another mech, unknown to him, and an object was heading their direction. A sphere.. of things. Growling, Steeljaw slammed his tail in the direction of the the object. It exploded onto his tail, an unknown liquid smearing all over his tail.
His sneer grew into a dark glare aimed directly at the Vehicon. Oh.. someone was about to have a bad time.
Starscream recognizes the hint of third’s EM field much too late for his liking, and his own lashes out in his surprise. His wings flare comically erect to his spinal struts, optics widening as the spherical object merrily rolls towards the grey and blue mech’s posterior. There’s a question on the edge of his vocaliser, one that never reaches the audials as the ball erupts into a colorful splash, gooey-looking muck coating what the seeker can only identify as a tail—what possible purpose would a Cybertronian have for a tail?
He lets out a kind of warble, half-amused and half-alarmed. Though all amusement fades when his helm lifts to view the culprit of such a devious attack, zeroing in on the telltale frame of a vehicon. Oh, for spark’s sake. Here he thought he would be having a lovely time dissecting this self-proclaimed war prisoner from the outside in (if they break in the process, it’s no matter), but, of course, nothing could ever be good or wholesome when it comes to strange happenings.
The liquid that’s color reminds him of regurgitated energon—his tank roils briefly—has stained the grass and dirt with stark vibrancy compared to Earth tones which are all browns and greens, sedimentary and dull. He ultimately decides that the vivid pink is an improvement. However, he is not happy about the unceremonious intervention.
Starscream’s vents hiss as his core temperature rises, his wings briefly giving off a shake, conveying his annoyance. With Steeljaw’s monologue pretty well forgotten, all of his building ire focused on the newcomer. Well—at least it’s not a slagging Autobot.
“You!” He begins to stride forward on heeled peds, carding past the now-dirtied Steeljaw and standing before the drone with a cruel look on his faceplates. The vehicon’s expression remains unreadable, a downside to their faceless visors which remind him too much of his cohorts Soundwave and Shockwave.
Electromagnetic field bristling with hostility, Starscream grounds out through snarled dentae: “What do you think you’re doing?” Though they are relatively the same height, the seeker flares his wings innately, to appear larger. How dare this whelp intrude! Fragged glitches, his engine growls whilst he narrows his optics, if only we could program them to be less stupid.“You had better give me a good reason for the interruption in the next three nanokliks, soldier.”
Starscream and Steeljaw had seemed to believe they were very different, or had spoken to each other as if they were entirely not related in any manner. The instant both turned around with wrathful faceplates Sev decided that the two looked similar in appearance after all. The only real difference between them was the fact that one could fly and the other couldn’t. Both seemed to be just about ready to pummel him. Then again, Steeljaw was pinker than before. Though I’m surprised he doesn’t consider it more of an improvement than anything. the vehicon kept the thought to himself. Even if he had only heard from Steeljaw, the vehicon didn’t like anything about the wolf.
Starscream’s shouting prioritized Sev’s attention, simultaneously turning his musings to concerns regarding giving an entire explanation in three seconds. Sev instantly struggled past the mental stress trap of blurting out fragmented sentences. He Knew better than that. He was a rookie, but he’d seen war, and he could think fast enough so that his mouth didn’t shoot words before he fully computed them. Sv19 felt his hand raising the claymore in defense, causing him to snap it back to the ground. He opened his mouth for an explanation, but again withheld himself from giving an answer. What was telling these mechs really going to change.
His monotonously dim visor glanced from both faces. Three seconds had definitely just ended, and he had remained silent in the face of a direct order.
“This is a training ground sir.” Sev finally put simply, he never allowed his voice to give much emotion. “I am one of several units scouring the area for these totems.” He lifted the short stick-like object as evidence, as much as he doubted it would make a difference. Mentally he was waiting for one or the other mechs to try to deal a blow to him.
Sv19 decided that the best thing for him to do was prepare for an onslaught of less than pleasant slanders, or even get punched in the face by the Second in Command. So much for having probably the most totems. This mech could easily assign him some sort of new duty to keep Sv19 out of his sight. Despite these uncomforting thoughts, the vehicon’s appearance remained calm, as if he were simply reporting for duty. Sev thought that if he could keep his cool, perhaps the Second in Command wouldn’t necessarily recognize his inner fears, and simply excuse him. Hopefully that was the case.
Steeljaw was transfixed by the wet substance that had smeared all over his tail from the object that had hit it. It had been stained a hideous shade of pink, and all the wolf could do for what felt like decacycles was stare. Like a cat with the poofiest of tails, one said cat would be proud of, Steeljaw was furious that anything had 'ruined' his tail.
It would be a fight to get all this paint off.
His optics narrowed, turning in the direction of the alleged assailant. Only one Vehicon was in their midst, and even Starscream seemed to be furious that he had interfered. Perhaps they did think alike on some levels.
It took everything Steeljaw had to not immediately lunge at the newcomer. Doing so would not only provoke the Vehicon, but likely Starscream too. If he wanted to gain his trust, anger was not going to be his friend in this battle. He seethed, holding back a snarl as his fangs bared. The wolf took a single step forward, but only one. Maybe letting Starscream deal with this nuisance was the best option. After all, the Vehicon had called him sir.
Steeljaw crossed his arms, his glare weakening as his optics were trained on the Vehicon soldier. He wanted further explanation as to why they had used 'paint bombs' during this exercise, but felt it best to hold back. There was no need to interfere in the 'small talk' of a soldier and his superior, was there?
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altria : please dont be dead?
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