Chapter 5: Experiments in Socialization

-SS-

One thing led to another, and Starscream found himself in the Twins' quarters, eyeing the half-made high grade still they'd hidden there. It was… acceptable, he supposed.

Starscream could do a lot better than 'acceptable.'

"Get me a good toolset, and I'll fix this thing up right," Starscream ordered. Sideswipe, practically bouncing in glee, raced to find one, and Starscream gave the machine a closer inspection. He acknowledged Sideswipe with a distracted nod when he returned, grabbed a wrench, and started to work.

Sideswipe joined him, though Sunstreaker seemed content to watch. Starscream watched him work for a moment before deciding he probably wouldn't mess anything up. When Starscream stopped Sideswipe from soldering the wrong connection, he actually thanked the Seeker instead of getting upset about the correction. It was… strange. Starscream was actually enjoying working with them. Then, of course, Sideswipe opened his mouth to 'socialize.'

"So how'd a Seeker like you end up at the Academy?" he asked.

Starscream's hand clenched on the wrench in his palm, and he briefly considered chucking it at the Frontliner. Unfortunately, the projectile—and subsequent brawl—might damage the still, and Starscream had put in too much work to ruin it now. Instead, he pushed out from where he'd been sprawled under the machine and glared up at Sideswipe.

"What, 'cause Seekers are supposed to stay in Vos and head straight to the War Academy?" he asked, clambering to his feet and flaring his wings. "We're not 'allowed' to do normal things like study energon production?"

Sideswipe blanched and stumbled through an apology. Sunstreaker cuffed him upside the head. "What my Twin meant to ask was why you decided on Iacon. The Capital was one of the worst places for Flyers or warbuilds."

Mollified slightly, though only slightly, Starscream said, "You speaking from experience?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "It was long before the war. We didn't stay in Iacon for long."

An interesting tidbit, though unsurprising. The Twins were warframes; Iacon certainly wouldn't have welcomed them either. Thumbing the wrench again, Starscream returned to work. Breems passed as the awkward silence slowly turned comfortable again, punctuated by periodic grunts and orders.

Then, surprising even himself, Starscream said, "Iacon's Academy was the best. Everyone said I couldn't get in." He smiled, snapping a particularly stubborn cable into place. "I proved them wrong. I crushed all of them." He'd been better than every single mecha that tried to stop or replace him. Eventually, he'd forced them all to admit it.

Humming tunelessly, Starscream lost himself in the work. It was an easy design—simple. He'd built dozens like it over the vorns, with far worse material and more difficult resources to draw from. Everything went fine for several more breems. Then Sideswipe jumped back with a pained, bitten off curse and stared at the still with wild optics.

"Uh, Starscream?" he called, clutching his slightly singed fingers. "It started smoking. I really, really don't think it's supposed to be smoking.'

Starscream shot up, and he followed Sideswipe's gaze to the far end of the machine. Which was literally on fine. And it was spreading.

"Oh slag, run." Starscream shot out. They almost made it through the door before the explosion thundered past them. The sound came first, scrambling Starscream's audios. Then the shockwave and heat. Starscream was nearly thrown off his feet, and he remained standing through sheer force of will. The Twins weren't so lucky. Sideswipe lost his balance and tumbled down. His flailing arm tripped Sunstreaker, sending them both flying. They skidded to a stop in the middle of the hallway, dazed and groaning in a graceless lump.

Behind them, the doorway was scorched and still steadily leaking smoke. Nothing a new coat of paint couldn't fix, surprisingly. He doubted the room itself had been as lucky.

Sideswipe poked his head up. "Oh slag, close the door," he hissed. "Before-"

"WHEELJACK!" Someone roared from several hallways down. The voice echoed across the ship. Despite the distorted echo, it reminded him of the grumpy red Medic from before.

The Twins were already standing, helping each other up and wiping away the scorch marks. Starscream dove forward and smacked the keypad, closing the door with a slight screech. If you ignored the lingering, acrid scent of smoke, you'd never know something had happened. Soon enough, other mecha joined them, searching for the source of the explosion. Sideswipe, who'd managed a very good expression of mildly concerned curiosity, mingled with them.

The next time they were alone, Starscream sidled up next to him. "So who's this Wheeljack?" he asked.

Sideswipe grinned. "Only our very own mad scientist. He specializes in energy and experimental weapons. Many of which explode spectacularly and send him to the med-bay every few orns." He paused, eyeing Starscream speculatively. "I think you guys would get along. I'll introduce ya to him later."

Starscream nodded, interest reluctantly piqued. Sideswipe seemed like a good judge of character, but he'd reserve judgement until he actually met the mech. Chances were he'd hate him, like most other smug scientists he'd known.

~.*.~

-SF-

More often than not, Skyfire took his energon alone. Occasionally he was joined by the Cassettes or other curious mecha. Some were pleasant company, others less so. As a whole, though, the Decepticons had fought together for many vorns, and they were largely suspicious of Skyfire's presence. Skyfire didn't mind overly much. He'd always been better at observing than socializing anyway.

Several new Seekers poured into the rec room, grimy and somewhat scorched. Returning patrols, most likely. They must have gotten into a scuffle with the… Autobots, was it? Whatever their opponents called themselves. Most of them were undamaged, save for small scrapes their self-repair could easily handle. One, though, a streamline green mech, had his wing angled oddly, as though the joint had been damaged. Concerned, Skyfire leaned forward for a better look. A ragged tear ran down the center of the Seeker's wing, dangerously close to the joint. The surrounding plating was scorched deeply enough to destroy the color nanites.

Taking a deep gulp of energon, Skyfire tried to ignore it. The stranger wasn't his problem. Yet... he couldn't stop glancing over. Wounds like that shouldn't be allowed to fester. Especially not wing damage.

Finally, Skyfire gave in. Subspacing his half-empty cube, he walked over. A few mecha stared, cautious of his size, but most simply ignored him. He paused behind the green Seeker, who hadn't noticed his arrival, before tapping his undamaged shoulder.

The Seeker jumped and spun around, baring his teeth and wings, though the motion must have irritated the damage. "Who the slag are you?" he spat.

Skyfire backed up, holding his hands up in supplication. "You're hurt," he said simply. "I have some medical training. I can help, if you wish."

Instead of abating, the Seeker's wary suspicion only grew. "What are you trying to play at?"

Before Skyfire could answer, the Seeker was joined by two more: his Trinemates. They flanked their damaged member protectively, blocking his damaged wing entirely from view. "I think you should leave," one of them growled. His claws were out—the other two's as well.

Skyfire just nodded and stepped away. "As you wish," he said softly. Then, ignoring their dumbstruck expressions, he turned to go. Before he made it a dozen steps, one of them called out—the green mech.

"Wait."

Skyfire stopped. The damaged Seeker was staring at him, arms crossed. He had a wary edge to his frame, but it wasn't outright aggressive anymore.

"Any funny business, and I'll eviscerate you myself," the Seeker warned.

Skyfire nodded. With both Trinemates watching his every move, he repaired the damage and applied a pain patch. Then he left. He finished his cube alone, in the too-small quarters he'd been assigned. He'd never even learned the green mech's designation.

Still... Skyfire smiled as he flipped through a datapad, one of several historical ones he'd found. He'd done something good today. He'd really helped someone, for the first time since he'd woken up.

It was a good feeling.

~.*.~