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WARNING ⚠️:
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND MENTIONS TO ABUSE.
It also contains a bit of self-venting from me, which I know isn't ideal, but I needed to write it somewhere. . .
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— . . . -and I expect that such reports are finished within the next 2 cycles!
Another day. . . Another meeting I'm forced to take. . .
Deep inside the nemesis, the high-command was holding a meeting on a designated room to discuss findings from a recent mission. At the table, sat four figures:
On the far opposite side from the room, stood Megatron, their leader and tyrant. He rambled about the plans from the mission and the statistics collected by it. He was too loud. Too annoying. And Starscream was barely even listening to whatever he was saying.
By the seeker's left, stood the Third in Command, Spy of the cause and the communication's officer, Soundwave. Always the silent 'con, he displayed some info in his visor whenever he received commands from the Tyrant himself. He's too loyal, I doubt he would ever go against him.
And at his right side, the scientist of the cause, Shockwave, who listened to the ordeal while voicing himself every once a few breems. Too logical, always in his lab preparing his next megalomaniacal experiment. I wonder what he will do this time.
Starscream, being the Second in Command, had his presence inquired for this meeting that, ever since he stopped counting, has been dragged on for around 2 entire cycles. 24 human hours, of hearing that damn Tyrant speak without a break. His receptors are already giving out, his optics overwhelmed by the lights that sterilized the room, he couldn't take this anymore, he-
— . . .-and Starscream?
The mention of his name grounded him back to reality, as he straightened up to speak, using that hoarse and screeching tone he always used.
— Yes, My lord?
— I expect your side of the reports on my servos until the next cycle.
— Oh but of course, Lord Megatron.
— So it's settled. Get back to your stations. You're all dismissed.
With those final words, the meeting came to an end. The 'cons piled out of the meeting room, each following to their respective duties. Starscream did the same, of course, it was either: he follows it, or he would never hear the end of it.
★*★*★*★
Assignment, report, repeat,
Assignment, report, repeat,
Assignment, report, repeat,
Assignment, report, repeat,
ASSIGNMENT, REPORT, REPEAT,
ASSIGNMENT, REPORT, REPEAT-
— "STARSCREAM!!!"
The seeker was brought back to reality, as a recording from the Tyrant himself played, shouting his name with the tone that always indicated that he was about to get punched. He looked around, panicked, wondering what had he done to deserve such a call. That's when he noticed that he was alone with only one other bot in the control room. It wasn't long before his optics landed on said bot: Soundwave. Of course it was him, only he could pull off something like that.
— Ah. . . Yes, Soundwave?
The silent Decepticon tilted his head at them, like he was mentally trying to explain to himself what was going on with the seeker. He searched through his memory database, looking for voiceclips to vocalize himself. Starscream knew he didn't spoke, it was a promise he made eons ago, which he swore to never break.
— "You!-" *bzzt!* "Ok?"
He never fails to amuse me with those vocal mixes he does. . .
— Oh. . . I'm. . . I'm fine, Soundwave, why the question?
He pointed to the console in front of them. Starscream noticed that he had basically lost half a cycle with his thoughts. He let out a vent, while shaking his helm, trying to ease his tension from the previous scare.
— I dosed off? Didn't even notice. . .
The silent Decepticon nodded, but the way he did made it look condescending. Starscream enjoyed their company, in fact, if he wasn't so loyal to Megatron, he could probably bond with him better.
— Right. . . Thanks for checking in, Soundwave.
They nodded once again, before he turned and made his way back to their hab suit. As the other 'con left the room, Starscream groaned loudly, sinking into his seat while staring at the console.
Too much unfinished work. . . I don't think I can finish this within the deadline. . .
He brushed his thoughts aside, straightening himself up on his seat and going back to work. This conflict didn't have breaks, so why should he? He took a deep vent, before he started typing away, hoping he could meet the due date.
★*★*★*★
— WHAT DO YOU MEAN "IT ISN'T FINISHED"?!
The tyrant's voice rang through the cold walls, a dangerous tone creeping up his vocalizer, clenching his servos as he tried to keep an ounce of composure. He sounded more aggressive than usual, intoxicatingly aggressive. Maybe he filled his aft with Dark energon again. . .
— M-My lord, it wasn't enough! One cycle is too little time to make such a big report!
The screechy, shaky vocals of the seeker were clear as day, gathering attention from nearby 'cons, who watched the ordeal play out, hidden from the duo's direct view.
— G-Give me one more cycle! Only one m-more! That's all I need to fin-
He was interrupted by a punch that came from the Tyrant himself. He stumbled back, almost falling in the process. His face showed fear, his optics trembling as he looked at the Tyrant. Not again. . .
— I'M TIRED OF HEARING YOUR EXCUSES, STARSCREAM. GROW YOURSELF A DECENT BUILD AND DO YOUR JOB!
The seeker looked at the Tyrant with worried optics, taking the vision of a crazed, frenzied Megatron.
— BUT MY LORD!-
The next moments were a blur of pain and metal clanking that he honestly couldn't make anything out of. The tyrant was powerful, strong and filled with rage, his seeker built wouldn't really stand a chance against him. When it ended, it felt like cycles had passed, as a burning pain took over his body. He was left in the ground, grunting in pain as his agressor left, saying something that he didn't even bother to listen to.
It wasn't enough.
It is never enough.
No matter how much I try. . .
It seems like it isn't good enough.
★*★*★*★
— You don't know how lucky you are that he didn't break any energon lines of yours.
The medic 'con vocalized as he looked through the injuries while he applied the last few fixes. It was bad. He never saw Megatron do such damage to the seeker, it was brutal, even for the Silver-clad leader.
— Well, this should do the trick for now, but I will need you to stay out of his way for the time being. It's the 3rd time I've seen you in the medbay this deca-cycle. If he beats you one more time, I'm afraid I will need to leave you into stasis to repair you properly.
The concern on Knockout's optics was evident, he fiddled with his digits as he gave a step back from the seeker, giving him space.
Starscream got up, but didn't say anything, just looked at his newly patched body. Nothing new to see here.
— I am aware of that. You don't need to remind me of it again.
His tone was off. Starscream was speaking in that serious, much more normal sounding tone that Knockout picked up in their last encounter a few earth days ago. He couldn't help but worry if Megatron had maybe gone too far and knocked their processor too much.
— Starscream, may I raise some concerns regarding yourself?
The seeker tilted his head, slightly confused as what he could've noticed. His optics landed in theirs, trying to see if he could predict what they're about to say.
— Yes, you may.
Knockout took a deep vent, thinking for a few nano-clicks to word it as best as he could, before vocalizing himself.
— You know, I've been noticing a few things off on our most recent encounters. - he paused, looking for words to continue - You've. . . changed, at least when not on public eye. You've quieted down, you're speaking differently than usual, and you're much more. . . collected?
So someone did notice. . .
— I can't help my systems, but worry. Is everything alright?
I expected Soundwave to catch on before him, but we get what we can take.
— I'm just. . . tired, Knockout.
That answer won a curious look from the medic, who raised an optical ridge in response, with a nod that meant for the seeker "proceed"
— You know. Maybe I hit my helm too hard, but everything feels pointless at this point.
— Care to elaborate more? That doesn't help much.
Starscream sighed.
— Look, I'm just too tired and weary, alright? Can't a 'con fell that way?
— It's just that. . . It doesn't look like you to be in this state.
— I know. But I'm fine. Well, as fine as I can be like this.
He pointed to his beaten self, which earned a small, polite chuckle from the medic.
— I see, screamer. But hey, don't let the bucket lord get the best of you, alright?
Starscream's optics met once more with theirs, as he sighed and then looked away.
— I won't, don't worry about it.
Knockout took a step closer to him, using his servo to pat his shoulder.
— So I suppose you're ready to go. I suggest you stay in your hab-suit for the time being, so you can heal properly.
Starscream nodded, giving him one last look before leaving the medbay. He ventured through the desert, sinuous, grim corridors of the ship. At this time, most of the base was recharging, and the first thing on his mind was the goal of reaching his hab-suit to recharge, but he changed his course. After thinking for a while, he had the idea of taking off for a flight.
Maybe a little breeze should help. . .
★*★*★*★
He reached the flight deck without any issues, being the Second in Command sometimes has its perks. As he stepped into the platform, he finally saw the outside world after a good while. It was dark, a seemingly star-less night, with only a dim moon painted in the night sky. The breeze was soft, comforting as it hit his metallic frame, whispering some melody of nature.
I don't know why I used to hate this planet. . . It can be mesmerizing sometimes. . .
Starscream's wings fluttered open, feeling the wind dance through them, a magic sensation that he missed dearly after being so many cycles inside that Primus forsaken ship. He looked back one last time at the Nemesis, hearing the soft murmurs of the 'cons inside and the machinery cacophony that worked on the background. He took a vent, and jumped, with a grace that only he had, transforming mid air into his alternative mode and blasting up into the sky, flying away into the night.
Being in such an altitude makes some good memories return. As I leap higher and farther away from the Nemesis, the lights produced by the base dim out, showing the true colors of that seemingly dark sky. It was a starry night, the cosmos itself blessing me with the vision of countless stars painting the boundless canvas of the universe. The moon? Bright as ever, a shining, glittery stone that not only complemented the view, but enhanced it. I could feel the moonlight in my frame, and after countless eons. . . I finally felt. . .
At peace.
He would sped up, then slowed down, do some barrel rolls and other tricks he kept deep inside his processor, enjoying as much as he could. He felt alive. Truly alive.
After what felt like hours, he finally decided to stop for a bit, just to let his vents properly work. He landed in the middle of the mountainous desert, a scenery he was used to at this point in time. Countless battles have been clashed upon these lands, thousands lost their lives because of the conflict and he could see in the horizon small bits of fallen ones, a grim reminder of the real issue: The War.
The seeker took a vent, in and out, as he started to walk on his pedes and explore his surroundings for a bit. As he dragged his pedes in the sand, he couldn't help but feel. . . calm. Being away from the Nemesis without it having to do with a mission was refreshing, and actually let him cool down his processor. Nothing was loud, too bright, irritating, only the soft breeze and the warmth of the sand comforted him. Starscream finally decided to sit down on a small pile of rocks he saw nearby, and as he settled in, he sighed.
— Well. . . I Don't think I need to be hiding much now. . .
He was truly relaxed now that he was alone, only him, and the seemingly endless night that stretched far out of his view. Under the moonlight, his damage was more clear, dents and crumped parts cast in small shadows, cracks darkened, and scratches told a silent story of aggression that has been going on for far too long.
— By Primus. . . It didn't look that bad at the medbay. . .
He winced as he saw how the night highlighted their issues, and that made him chuckle.
— How unfortunate, hm? I look like a wreck. . .
The seeker didn't seem to care. . .not anymore at least, but it deeply bothered him.
— Sigh. . . What a fun run you had, Primus. Twisting fate to see me fail over and over again was truly something, right? I think. . . - he snapped his digits, trying to recollect the word, before it popped up in his helm - humans call this karma. Well, not like I didn't deserve it.
He chuckled again, he found himself amused by his own disgrace, downplaying how much it hurts. He laughed, but it quickly grew into sobs. Tears leaked from his optics, as the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness crushed him. The seeker buried his face into his servos, not making a sound, a habit he grew to avoid facing the wrath of his tyrant. Only the constant flow of tears dripping from his face gave away what he truly felt.
— This is what you wanted?. . .
His voice was weak and small, shaking with the urge to scream his spark out.
— IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!
That screech from their vocalizer came back, but desperate, agonizing. But when he thought he was over, a small, concerned vocal emerged from behind one of the dunes.
— Starscream?. . .
What. . .
No. . . That vocal. . .
Starscream's silent sobs were cut off short, as he looked up to the other bot, a ghost of his past he almost forgot.
— D-Drift?. . .