Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Hasbro does. I just write for the fun of it.

This story features explosions, robot on robot violence, and mild swearing- you should leave now if these things bother you.

The stars shone like sparkling diamonds in the sky above the outskirts of Metroplex. This part of the city was deathly quiet, nothing like the chaos of just a few hours earlier. Her shadowy silhouette was surveying a deserted street corner that had clearly suffered from a fiery explosion that had happened earlier. She paused at the center of the destruction where a stage had been standing just hours ago.

Things could have gone a lot worse today.

She thought back over the events that led up to the disaster…

It started the day before, when Starscream decided to pay her a visit. He had barged in on Windblade while she was communicating with Metroplex. It startled her and she broke her concentration. She turned to face him. His glowing red optics burned into hers like hot knives.

"I demand to know everything wrong with Metroplex." He said in an irritated voice as he strode through the doorway.

"Starscream-" Windblade started to speak,

"That is LORD Starscream to you, cityspeaker." He growled.

"Lord Starscream," Windblade said firmly, "you will have to be more specific with what you wish to know."

"Fine, let me put it this way-" he said as he stepped closer to her, "What major problems does Metroplex have that my public would frown upon? Would you be able to give me a number of priorities that need attention?"

"There are about twenty that are classified as a major priority." Windblade answered.

Starscream frowned at her.

"That is far too many. I intend on giving the people a speech on the current condition of Metroplex, to squash rumors I am neglecting the city's problems. You will provide me with the information I need to help boost my image."

"I am sure the citizens here understand we are all doing the best we can to maintain Metroplex." Windblade gave a small sigh and continued, "I will have a full report for you later today so you can be prepared to speak." and she turned her back to Starscream to reconnect with Metroplex.

Starscream felt a surge of rage at her nonchalant response. His optics turned into slits as he leaned forward and gripped her upper shoulder tightly. He spoke directly into her audio receptors.

"Those twenty problems need to be turned into ten by tomorrow." He said in a low threatening tone.

"But sir, some of those priorities could take days or- Agh!" Windblade started to say but Starscream had pulled out his sword and jabbed the blade at Windblade's back as he clenched his hand tighter on her shoulder.

"I expect a list of ten priorities that have been completed by the end of today on my desk, with the ten remaining ones in your hands with you at my side tomorrow before I speak. Understand?" he said as he pressed his sword into her.

"Yes, Lord Starscream." Windblade gasped quietly as she closed her optics. A trickle of energon bled from her when he drew back his sword.

"Good." Starscream said as he pushed her forward a bit and put his blade away. "I would hate to add 'cityspeaker execution' to my list of things to do tomorrow." He strode out with a devious smirk on his face as Windblade was left with a twinge of pain, and a look of worry in her optics.

The next day Windblade arrived at the street Starscream had chosen to speak at. A makeshift stage was put up and there was quite a crowd of Cybertronians waiting. Rattrap was already there, surveying the crowd looking for more influential members of society. He casually stepped over closer to Windblade.

"So, eh- did you bring your list with ya?" He asked.

"Yes," Windblade answered as she continued to look out at the crowd anxiously, "but it's a list of twelve priorities."

"Oh well, you tried." Rattrap said. "I'll be sure to say something nice at your funeral-" but a loud engine roar cut him off as Starscream swooped down from high above and transformed dramatically above the stage, getting rounds of applause from the crowd as he waved to them.

He thanked them with a flashy smile and began talking. Windblade wasn't really listening, her mind was thinking of how Starscream was going to react to her list. She was absentmindedly staring off into the crowd wishing she was back home on Caminus with her friends…

"Windblade!"

She snapped back into paying attention.

"I said, I want my wonderful cityspeaker Windblade to join me up here as I explain to you what is left to fix on Metroplex." he paused and turned to Windblade with a hand outstretched to come forward, and gave her a creepy smile that looked like it was filled with evil intentions.

As she took a few steps forward, she could hear a rumbling sound from somewhere beneath the stage, followed by loud booms to her right and left.

The stage had burst into smoke and flames with debris flying everywhere. She could hear screaming and the sounds of bodies running away as another explosion caused the stage to collapse from underneath her and Starscream. It all happened so fast- she and Starscream fell inward into the smoky blaze coming from a huge hole beneath them. She felt something hit her in the face and she landed on her back next to an unconscious Starscream. She looked up and saw more of the stage was about to collapse on them when Starscream stirred. Windblade quickly got up and grabbed his left wing and dragged him from some of the falling debris.

"Get up!" she shouted at him as she pulled on his arm, and he rose to his feet.

"How dare you tell me what to do-" he started to snap back. But a large, burning chunk of metal fell and hit him hard just above his optics, causing him to fall to his knees in agony. Windblade stooped down to help him up by placing his arm across the back of her shoulders. She could see energon leaking out onto him while he gripped his upper face in pain. She spotted a way out from the swirling, fiery hell that was quickly surrounding them- and urged Starscream to hurry with her as they ran out together from under the stage before it completely caved in.

She gently helped him sit down so she could rest too. Rattrap and some medical responders quickly came over to her and Starscream asking all kinds of questions. But all Starscream could do was stare blankly ahead into the burning twisted metal before passing out. He was lifted into an emergency medical vehicle and taken to a nearby medical clinic. Windblade transformed and followed it as Rattrap stayed behind to answer questions from reporters who came to the scene.

Windblade had been checked on by a doctor and discharged with minor dings and bruises. She was going to leave the clinic, when she realized she needed to see how Starscream was doing. Even though he was awful toward her, she knew he would demand an explanation of what happened sooner or later, and even he deserved to know what was going on.

But when she reached his room, he was still knocked out. He was being well cared for, and the staff assured her she would be contacted as soon as he woke up. So she decided to leave him and go back to the scene of the fire to see if there was anything she could discover. She knew this was no accident, and as she flew back she wondered who the attack was directed at- her or Starscream?

Her thoughts finally caught up to her as she looked up toward the stars. She realized she took too long in searching for clues as to what happened, but she knew making mental notes of events would eventually help piece together what happened, and vowed to bring whoever was responsible to justice...

Meanwhile, Starscream woke up in the hospital- completely disoriented. He bolted upright in a panic from the medical table, not knowing where he was, or how he ended up there. He needed to see why he felt so much pain on his head. He tried to walk, but felt weak and almost fell. He limped over to a mirror hanging on a wall.

"Pull yourself together." He muttered aloud as he gazed into the reflection of his own optics.

But when he looked up above his head, he could only gape in wide eyed horror to a large, burnt-looking gash that was still leaking a bit. Scorch marks were on his wings and in various spots on his body. The pain was awful, and the wounds would heal, but one question instantly haunted his reflection more than anything else.

"Who am I?" he whispered.

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