Duplicity: n. deceitfulness

Inspector Crossflare from the Science Council was one of those weedy, feeble-minded ground-pounders who, thought Starscream, represented the pinnacle of the corrupt system he so despised.

The Seeker sat, leaning against his lab counter with his chin resting in his servo, optics dim as though half in recharge, his whole frame a picture of unperturbed coolness. But internally, he was observing and mocking his superior's every movement with appropriate snark and disrespect. Whilst it could not be denied that some of his observations did indeed hold a nugget of truth, the majority of them were aimed with greater vicious intent than objective commentary.

The inspector was weaving through the counters of the laboratory now, each of which held the set-up for a deliberately perplexing but impressive looking experiment. He was scribbling down notes whenever the thought occurred to him, but so far nodding along compliantly and looking, as Starscream suspected he would, completely in awe.

The Seeker waited until the inspector had made his rounds before gesturing lazily. "Any questions?"

"Er, yes," said Crossflare, peering at his notes. "Just a few - it's all looking brilliant as usual so far, Starscream - but the er, Senate would just like to confirm that you have reached the experimental phase of your, um, research."

"Absolutely," nodded Starscream pleasantly. "I've spent the last two deca-cycles reading up on past studies in the field of Spark reformation and upgrades, as well as, ah, salvaging what I can from Project W94X7 - pardon me," he paused, his voice saccharine with patronising pity, "you must not know the scientific code for it. I believe the Senate refers to it often as project 'Metanoia'."

"Um, oh, yes. That's the one," said the little inspector, somewhat haplessly glancing around the lab. "The Science Council wants to let you know that the Senate is particularly keen for you to, ah, restore what you can of the original project. And replicate it. The findings and... You know. All exactly the same."

"Of course, that's what 'to replicate' means," muttered Starscream with a condescending flick of his wings. If Crossflare heard the snide remark, he didn't show any sign of it, and the Seeker put on his smile again. "Of course," he proclaimed, louder now, "I wouldn't dream of doing anything other than what the Senate has commissioned me to do. On that subject, I have some excellent news for the Senate."

Crossflare blinked. "Oh?"

"Oh yes," nodded Starscream, looking rather pleased with himself. "Make sure you let the Senate know that I have found some Outliers who are, in fact, the product of the original project Metanoia. You know," he clarified, irritation creeping into his voice when Crossflare looked blank, "cold constructed mechs with Outlier abilities? Are we still following? Yes? Anyway, those mechs are alive and well, and I have made contact and they will be joining me in Iacon shortly."

The inspector nodded with obliviousness.

Starscream glanced at the other's datapad. "Well, aren't you going to write that down?" He gestured with his helm, his tone growing noticeably snappish. "Let the Senate know! This will be of interest to them."

"A-Ah, I see!" mumbled Crossflare, and began scribbling immediately.

"The plan is," continued Starscream, with a slowness one would usually expect from someone addressing a sparkling, "to study the Biomechanical make up of those Outliers. My partner Skyfire, here, will assist me in taking those measurements. I hope, by studying the Sparks of successful specimen, that I – we – will be able to reverse-engineer the Spark-generation formula used in the original project and replicate their results, creating entirely new Outliers through artificial means."

"... rev...erse... engi...neer..." muttered Crossflare, apparently struggling to spell.

Glancing over the inspector's helm, Starscream made eye contact with Skyfire and mouthed the word 'moron' over to the shuttle's direction. Skyfire's own faceplates made a confused turn between trying not to smile and trying to look solemn and disapproving.

Crossflare made a few more uncertain notes in his datapad before looking up again. He seemed frightened of Starscream, as though able to sense the other's veiled hostility.

"I, um, think I have all that I need for now," he said, looking as though he were scrambling through his processor for any information he may have missed. "Oh, but um, do bear in mind that your project must be kept confidential. T-The public must not hear of it." He swept his gaze around to include Skyfire into the conversation, and the shuttle nodded mutely, though his optic ridges had knitted together at the words. "We don't want a, er, a repeat of what happened last time, do we?"

"Of course not," replied Starscream, smiling widely. "Vorns of research destroyed by hordes of ignorant civilians? I'm sure that would not be in the interest of the Senate at all."

"Nor in yours, Starscream," said Crossflare, with a sudden warning in his voice. Perhaps he had found his courage now that he was comfortably close to the door. "You know what happened to the scientists in the last project. The Senate has the right to terminate any who breaches the confidentiality of this project - and this extends to both you and your test subjects."

Concern was clearly writ large upon Skyfire's face-plates, but he stayed silent and kept his optics firmly fixed, with as much faux composure as he could muster, upon the inspector.

Crossflare, however, was looking at Starscream alone, as though the shuttle did not even count as a presence in his optics. "You have submitted the identification data of your test subjects to the Science Council for approval?" He inquired, carefully.

"Already done," Starscream nodded. "My test subjects were former students in the Jhiaxian Academy of Advanced Technology, but I've signed all the appropriate documents required to ensure their smooth transition under my custody, and this information has already been copied to the Academy. The Science Council knows who they are - and the Senate can too, if necessary."

"Oh, the Senate already knows," said the inspector without hesitation, and the Seeker's optics narrowed. "They'll be keeping a close optic on those Outliers once they're in Iacon." He looked quite agitated. "Look, I, um... I really must stress again the importance of confidentiality, Starscream. And, er, Skyfire. The public is not fond of the Senate running military experiments, and -"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Starscream, carelessly waving a servo and looking quite bored. "I have been debriefed before. I know the drill."

Crossflare appeared a little irritated at the interruption, but evidently his fear of the Seeker overrode the desire to complain. "Well, um, in that case," he fidgeted awkwardly, "I'll report back to the Science Council now. And the, er, Senate, of course. In the mean time you, um, keep up the excellent work, and I shall let you know if anything further comes up with the Senate. Um."

"Naturally," said Starscream, quite pleasantly. "Have a good day."

He kept up his smile until Crossflare had left the lab and the doors had sealed shut. Then his expression dropped quickly into a scowl.

"Slagging moron," he muttered, "probably couldn't tell his aft from his mouth." He turned to look at Skyfire, rolling his optics in exasperation. "This is the kind of stupid mech the Science Council works with. Scientific class my aft! No wonder this place is going down the Pits."

"… I can't believe the Senate really is so concerned about keeping confidentiality," murmured Skyfire, his processor otherwise preoccupied. "The inspector distinctly mentioned termination…"

Starscream snorted, seemingly unbothered by the implication. "Of course they are," he laughed, appearing completely at ease with the threat. "This is how low the Senate is willing to sink, all to save their own skidplates. I havetold you about project 'Metanoia', haven't I?"

"Yes, I do remember." admitted the shuttle slowly, his face-plates creasing into a frown. "… It did seem like a rather unpleasant end for all involved – for the Senate, the scientists or the subjects."

The Seeker simply chuckled, shaking his helm. "You don't even know the half of it," he laughed, though there was something dark in his tone. "The public was – naturally – enraged that the Senate was conducting all those unethical experiments. For their own gain, no less! I still remember those headlines: 'Playing Primus? The Senate's Secret Super-Powered Army'. It's a delicious scandal, isn't it? The Senate, constructing Outliers cold. They've done what they could to wash their servos free of the entire thing since the project's termination. Well. Until I came along."

The shuttle nodded absent-mindedly. Like many of Starscream's stories, it would not be the first time he has heard of them, but with enduring patience he prompted the Seeker for an explanation anyway. "I suppose it makes sense for the Senate to desire a technology that only they can have access to," he remarked.

"Greedy slaggers," spat out Starscream with hearty hatred. "They're corrupt; they're all about consolidating their own power, and they're not afraid of sacrificing others for it." He turned and fixed his burning optics to gaze out of their laboratory window, where a wide, unbroken view of Iacon sprawled out beneath them, interrupted only by the shards of dying sunlight fading over the glass buildings and walls. "The Senate thinks only about using this technology for their own benefits, but I – we– have a greater vision in mind, don't we?"

Skyfire didn't answer. "I have a question," he said, slowly.

The Seeker turned his helm, his fiery optics blazing. "Oh?" He remarked. "Frightened, Skyfire?" His words were weighted, though everything from the mech's posture to his expression suggested lightness and jest. "I did think you looked a bit pale when that inspector was here just now, but I thought maybe that was to do with your paintjob."

The shuttle ignored the thinly veiled jabs. "You've been asking me to spread the word around," he said, in a calm, firmly neutral tone, "about your 'project' - what you aim to achieve using the Senate's credits. And I did what you said. Only…" He paused here, chewing over the words. "… Only you didn't tell me about the risks."

"I thought you were clever, Skyfire," retorted Starscream, bitterness clouding his tone. His wings dropped, and when he turned to face the shuttle this time, there was no pretense of joviality. "Of course there would be risks. You and I – our ideas are dangerous to the Senate. One misstep and there will be consequences. But you knew that, Skyfire, and you were prepared for those risks, or else you wouldn't be here."

"I wasn't prepared to involve my friends," answered Skyfire, his servos clenching subconsciously into fists. "What if the Senate traced it back to them? They wouldn't know about the importance of confidentiality. You didn't tell me –"

"If you did your job," interrupted Starscream sharply, and it was clear by the way his frame was tensing that his temper was flaring, "then the word will spread. Mechs all over Iacon, no, the whole of Cybertron will hear of my invention – the possibility of a whole-scale Spark renovation, and it will be available for all. No longer will they be left to suffer under the oppressive choices of a malevolent deity." Here, he sneered, lips curling in a wordless curse. "They'll be free to choose who they are, and who they want to be, even after creation." He stood up, sweeping past the rows of counters to stop before the window, his small, slim stature nevertheless forming an imposing sight as he opened his arms and gestured with grandiose arrogance at Cybertron before him. "I will change the world, Skyfire! By the time my invention becomes public knowledge, it will be too late for the Senate to stop it, never mind start punishing anyone."

The shuttle watched this display, and imagined, just a few deca-cycles ago, of a crimson Seeker illuminated with the same pomp and brutal cynicism, on the stage of his graduation ceremony. He bowed his helm.

"I just think," he began again, carefully, "that we need to be careful at this current stage before revealing too much. I… Ugh. I wish you did say something, Starscream. I've already told my friends Venture and Trailfire. You remember them? The ones I introduced you to, once?"

"Mmh, vaguely. Not what they look like though," answered Starscream with an absent-minded hum. "They were those scientific-class ground-pounders from the School you attended, weren't they?" His face-plates crinkled with ill-disguised disgust. "Actually, now I do recall their condescending manner. Typical scientists, really…"

"About that," murmured Skyfire, "they're members of the police force."

There was a silence as Starscream blinked with genuine surprise at the revelation. Then the moment was gone and the Seeker's faceplates slipped back into flat-line boredom. "Oh, that's even worse," he shook his helm, turning his back on his partner now to clear away the intricate displays upon his lab counters. "Corrupt, abusive, unruly bunch. More brawn than brain. Well, I suppose it's an easy mix-up to make, what with the quality of the scientific-class nowadays…" And here he laughed, his voice light and dismissive of the lives he was mocking.

"Starscream," interjected his partner, firmly. "My friends aren't like that, and I won't let you make fun of them in front of me."

The Seeker rolled his optics but said nothing.

"Anyway, that's not the point," continued Skyfire, frowning seriously and determined to make his friend aware of the gravity of their situation. "Starscream, listen. They're in the police force. They work with authorities close to the Senate. What if the Senate hears about this?"

"Look," growled Starscream, frustration pulling his wings taught and making him discard the empty test tubes with greater venom than necessary. "If those ground-pounders really areyour so-called friends, you wouldn't need to worry about them spilling to the Senate. And anyway," he waved a servo with flippant carelessness, "if they arein the police force, as you say, then our research will surely benefit them. I can regenerate their Sparks fit for a real member of the scientific caste, if they wanted. They'll have no reason to – "

"No," interrupted Skyfire, his own optic ridges creasing. "No. You misunderstand. I'm not worried about them leaking information on us. I mean, what if they accidentally reveal information about our project that puts them in danger with the Senate? What will…" His voice faltered. "What will happen then?"

"You honestly –?" Starscream stopped, his servos dropping to the counter as he turned to stare at his research partner with open incredulity. "You're concerned about their well-being, even if they betray us? Well. You're certainly more foolish than I thought."

"They're my friends," insisted Skyfire.

"Tch," said Starscream, looking skeptical, but said nothing more.

Now the two researchers busied themselves with tidying away the lab, lost in the mundane realism of their current activities after all the heat and passion of their previous discussion. For all that desire to change the world and defend the righteous, the lab had to stay clean and orderly or they would most certainly be receiving an irate comm-message the next orn from their cleaner bot.

It took another cycle, but finally the lab was once again presentable, and the two idealistic fliers found themselves seated opposite each other once more in reflective silence. Starscream looked coolly out of the window, his faceplates wiped clean of emotion, and Skyfire replayed their earlier conversation with optic ridges creased with thoughtfulness.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"… Would you reformat Venture and Trailfire's Sparks, if they asked you to?"

The Seeker shot the other a cursory glance. "Your friends are a minority," he answered, flatly. "The central limit theorem states that as n increases to infinity, the distribution of the data will tend towards the norm. Your friends simply form 2.5% of the 'unfortunate' privileged."

Unbidden, Venture's drawn faceplates swam into Skyfire's processor. He stared down at his servos.

"We, on the other hand, are part of an extremely fortunate 2.5% for mechs of our caste, Skyfire," continued Starscream, his optics still fixated on a far-off vision somewhere over the horizon. "I see it more as our duty to aid the 97.5% of fliers out there, so that they will no longer have to suffer as we did for something as simple as the freedom of choice."

The shuttle looked up. His azure optics were as clear as ice. "So you would reject them?" he prompted.

Starscream's lips curled. "Don't put words in my mouth," he snapped. "… No. I would not reject them. If I did that, I would be no better than those Functionist slaggers." His glare seemed to sharpen in intensity as he dared the other to challenge him. "I was simply listing priorities."

Skyfire decided, wisely, not to pursue the subject. He turned his helm and gazed, too, out on to the skyline before them, musing idly on the idea that he and Starscream were not quite looking into the same future.

"I wonder…" He murmured, as a final ray of light slipped over the horizon and inky blue leaked across the sky, "… if we really are any different from the original scientists in 'Metanoia'." He tilted his helm, gazing quietly into the darkness. "I wonder if we are playing Primus."

"So?" Starscream shrugged. "Maybe I'd do a better job."

This attracted a startled look from the other flier, to which the Seeker smirked crookedly and waved a servo.

"Relax. If it's for the greater good, then it's surely what Primus would want," said the Seeker, lightly. "Anyway, like I say, it all depends on the public's perception of it. Do it right, and we'll be safe. The adoring masses will surely protect us against the Senate. Slag, they might even help us get rid of them."

"But how are you going to get mechs on your side?" queried Skyfire, doubtfully. "I'm… doing my best, Starscream, but…"

"Hmph. You fool. I wasn't really going to leave it up to you to let the world know," the Seeker snorted, folding his arms across his cockpit. But when he turned to face his partner, there was another light – one free from malice – which shone in his optics. "Skyfire, there's an ancient saying from one of Cybertron's colonies. 'The pen is mightier than the sword', I think it goes. And believe me," he smirked, "when the time comes, it will be my pen which prevails over the Senate's blade."

"I don't trust that Seeker one bit," growled Senator Proteus from his high seat at the Senate table, slamming a heavy fist down on the thick, metallic surface with a thud that made poor Crossflare jump. "First bringing in that other flier on to the project – whatever the slagger's designation is – without our consent when we had specifically told him that his project was to be classified information, and now he's bringing in Outliers too?! How many more mechs is he planning on inviting?! We might as well be making a public announcement at this point!"

"Calm yourself, Proteus," said Senator Decimus, seated at the Head of the Senates. The elderly mech, in stark contrast to his younger colleague, appeared as an oasis of calm, his rich, deep voice powerful and unwavering as he spoke. "Starscream has his own reasoning. The Outliers he has summoned are, after all, the successful results of the previous Project 'Metanoia'. We are fortunate that any have survived."

"It is still unacceptable conduct," snapped Proteus, undeterred. He had stood up from his seat now and was pacing agitatedly around. "Does he think nothing of our authority? We have repeatedly emphasized to him that this technology must not be leaked. Introducing fliers into the Science Academy was indeed a mistake! What is Cybertron coming to?!"

"He has performed admirably for a flier," interjected Hydrocharger, Director of the Iacon Academy of Science and Technology and Head of the Science Council. Compared to the others he was fairly youthful for a mech who had acquired so many titles, but nevertheless he spoke with a quiet assurance of his place even among the Senate. "Dustmaster was my former tutor, and I trust his expertise. He has told me that, despite disciplinary issues, Starscream is quite competent and highly accomplished in the scientific field."

"All utterly useless if he has no loyalty to our agenda!" retorted Proteus, sweeping an intimidating glare around the Senate room in an attempt to amass support. "There must be some other mech. Cybertron has never welcomed a mech of the militant class into the scientific ranks –!"

"Oh, do be quiet, Proteus," snapped Senator Sherma uncharacteristically, the quiet intellectual class Transformer having had quite enough of the other's passionate rants. "Mechs like you are the reason why the Senate is losing credibility and trust among the Cybertronians. Starscream has made far greater progress on this project than any of the other previous researchers had done. Employing him is an example of how the Senate is willing to embrace new ideas. The old ideas of Functionism are causing unrest –"

"Functionism is what Cybertron has been operating under since the Thirteen!" retorted Proteus, his optics piercing into his fellow Senator's. "This is what Primus intended…!"

"Oh, please."

"Senator Proteus, Senator Sherma, be silent!" cried Decimus, his powerful voice effectively drowning out any other remark Sherma may have made. The great mech paused to ensure that he had the room's full attention, before speaking once more, his voice slow and thoughtful.

"Both of my esteemed colleagues make valuable points," droned the older mech in a much quieter tone. "Starscream will serve his purpose in recreating the research of the original 'Metanoia'. Sherma is correct – there is unrest among the society and the Senate shall need a powerful, loyal army of Outliers to defend it. Currently, the Seeker shows the greatest promise in successfully delivering the results we desire."

A series of slow, if somewhat reluctant, nods around the table.

"Similarly, I concur with Proteus in acknowledging that Starscream is also an unknown. His alliance is uncertain and his origins raise questions of his trustworthiness," continued Decimus. "We shall keep him until he has served his purpose. When the time is right, he shall be eliminated as seen fit by the Council, so that he may not betray us in the end."

More muted nods, and it was only Hydrocharger who showed even the slightest hint of remorse.

"A pity." He murmured, his expression filled with wistful 'what ifs'. "He would have been a valuable contributor to science had he not been a flier."