Title: Taming of a Seeker

Author: Kit SummerIsle

Verse: Falcon!Seeker G1 AU: The falcon!Seeker idea is not mine, but razordragonfly's (http : / / razordragonfly . livejournal . com / tag / fear % 20 of % 20 falling ). My AU is based on his (with permission), but more or less G1, only the Seekers are not like what they usually are; here, they are classified as non-, or semi-sentient flying animals (aka falcons), while all the Decepticons and Autobots are grounders.

Character(s): Starscream

Rating: T

Warnings: some torture, violence, slavery and/or abuse of animals, depending on how you read it

Summary: Not long after the beginning of the war Decepticons start to realize the usefulness of the Seekers as flying warriors. But instead of recruiting they decide to capture and tame them…

Disclaimer: the usual. not owning it, just fooling around with TF

Note: This is a prequel fic for Fly high, telling Starscream's story.

Taming of a Seeker

1. Free

The Seekers were fewer every mating season, as the lone, tricoloured Seeker, perching on a ledge noticed. Not that he kept tabs on each of them, but every time that the flocks and trines gathered from the highlands to the safety of the canyons for the bad season it was easier to find good nests to hide from the acid rains. At first he didn't connect this with the frequency of the grounders that appeared sometimes with their bulky, clumsy flying companions; but once he noticed that a trine disappeared after these grounders made an appearance quite near to their nest. After that, he paid more attention to them but was more wary as well when they visited the canyons; curiosity and fear warred in him about the mechs. They looked vaguely like the Seeker-kin, he noticed, only without the wings and generally smaller; they could transform into wheeled things that were fairly fast on the ground but couldn't fly. Their winged companions never transformed and never even moved on the ground; they only flew in and out of the canyons.

He forgot the strangers when he flew after the new flock, the one that made its appearance the previous cycle, occupying one of the bigger nests in to metallic canyon-wall. It was a large flock with six adults and three younglings and he was interested, because he only saw one full trine in it; the rest of the Seekers were untrined yet. As he has so far failed to find mates, he was more than interested in the flock, offering so many possibilities. These orns it was harder and harder to find single or paired fliers that he hasn't seen yet; were he capable of such things, the Seeker would have been inclined to fall into despair of ever finding his own trine. But his thinking was simpler than that, not able to encompass the future, mainly living in the present. Seekers were usually like that; they kept a rich history by reciting the songs to younglings, they were quite capable to dealing with the present – but the future they hardly ever thought about.

He went up to the highlands, to catch some prey and was fortunate in his hunt; he was careful with the small technogazelle not to break its metallic skin and let its energon flow out; he intended the food as visiting present for the flock, as was proper. Flying back to the canyon he made a show of landing in front of their nest, announcing his presence with a polite warbling and laying down the present for the leader of the flock to inspect. The green and black male came out cautiously, but with wings flared high and proud – to which he answered with slightly lowered wings, as his single status demanded and a polite greeting trill. The Seeker was satisfied with the gift and chirping good-naturedly called his flock out to share, letting the stranger observe them – but not to approach yet.

His optics swept over the other's trine mates quickly, not wanting to provoke jealousy, but he studied the others with sharp interest. There was a black and dark red pair that evoked absolutely no feeling in him, but he noticed the single Seeker, standing slightly apart from the others, with optic-catching golden paint immediately. There was no tugging of the spark that he waited for so long, but there was definite interest – and by this time he was ready not to be picky with his choices. Besides the garishly bright Seeker was definitely not average; beside the colour he looked strong, agile and something even more that he couldn't yet determine in him. Trines could be built on such foundation, even though they considered the natural bonds preferable.

They exchanged a few songs and the trine leader watched with satisfaction as he got acquainted with the golden jet, before herding the flock back to the nest. It was a satisfactory first meeting for all concerned and the tricoloured Seeker headed away to care about his sustenance as well. On his way up to the highlands again, he noticed that one grounder appeared again further up the canyon, and thought to warn the flock the next time when they met. He wasn't yet sure that they hunted Seekers, mainly because there were never any deactivated frames left after them; but the disappearances were disturbing. He caught a small turbofox this time, drinking its tasty energon, not knowing that for a long time it would be the last free meal he had.

2. Captured

On his way back, the Seeker flew low over the crystal forest, enjoying the settling sun that warmed his chassis before the cold of the night cycle. Landing at the edge of the forest, he approached the sharp crystals cautiously, looking for the rare golden ones that he should give to the new Seeker as a gift, to match his colouring. He sang softly for himself as he searched, his thoughts fully on the other, keeping only a few sensors to his surroundings. The canyon had no real dangers, the rains were not coming for a few cycles yet and Seekers were stronger than any other beings on Cybertron. It was just the more surprising when he stepped onto a piece of ground seemingly no different from anywhere else – but it gave him a tremendously strong jolt that tore through his systems, clenching his cables, spasming his pistons, clamping his spark… and finally, reaching his head swept a merciful darkness onto his meta.

When he came online again it was pitch dark. Not the dark of the Cybertronian night that got faintly lit by the moons and stars, not the bad season's clouds that darkened the nests – but a heavy, threatening, suffocating total dark that knew no mercy. The Seeker never before has seen such blackness, never before were in a place that had such. It was quiet too, only his faint ventilation echoed in the small space, his joints crackled quietly as he tried to move but couldn't as something held his limbs. The space was far too small if the echoes didn't lie, closed, dark, threatening, suffocating... He froze. Then suddenly, like someone threw a switch the Seeker panicked. Enraged screams and yells tore free from his vocalizer with a volume that almost deafened himself too and resonated within the unseen walls. His limbs spasmed, tearing the restraints, or at least trying to, until his plating broke and even the wires underneath were cut by the metallic strands that proved stronger than him. Gears stressed and pistons forced as he fought to get free, but to no avail. Tubes snapped and energon flowed onto his limbs and the floor underneath. The strong frame heaved and surged but the metallic prison was stronger, the bolts that held his chains fastened securely to it. As he fought with the restraints, he felt them stiffen, drawing his limbs taut until he was unable to thrash any more, unable to move anything else but his claws scratching uselessly the floor. He never for a klik stopped screaming.

But after a time, stretched out until he was unable to move, but still fighting with it, energon still leaking from his wounds, the Seeker felt his strength starting to ebb. His screech became more subdued, more painful, turning from screaming rage to moaning anxiety, then keening in fear. The abused limbs twitched only, as they had no more strength in them to fight. His wings fell flat, unable to flare or even to shudder. As he lay on his front, finally putting his helm down in sheer exhaustion he started to feel the first pangs of hunger too. The Seekers never cared about smaller units of time than the cycles but his hunger must have meant that at least one such has passed and if another did so, he would be in trouble after loosing so much energon.

But the knowledge helped nothing in his situation that continued to be the same. Blind fear gave way to claustrophobic panic and his shrill keening again got louder as he felt the dark walls close on him, press him down and bury him. The darkness grew claws that tore into his plating mercilessly, poured into him like a ruthless smoke and poisoned him from the inside. His own screams hurt his audials but they were the only thing that kept the walls back, away from him. The resonations echoed in the small space, travelled in the walls, came back into his frame that hugged the ground, giving him the sense of space. But they grew weaker as he did so, until he had no more energy just to give a small, pathetic keen every now and then. But still nothing changed, until he stopped making sounds and the darkness claimed him again.

He didn't feel the box opened and a pair of smaller mechs clambering inside, muttering to themselves. They checked the Seeker's condition, patched up the worst injuries on the limbs and manually poured some energon into his tank. They welded a collar on his neck, some devices on his limbs and a pair of nasty looking clamps on his wingtips, then scrambling out they closed the box again. His self repair kicked in with the fresh source of energy and the rest of the smaller injuries were quickly healed. He onlined when it was ready, keening his distress of the dark again, but before he could start thrashing again a harsh voice bellowed in the darkness. He froze.

The voice was rough, totally devoid of the musical quality that characterized their speech, it was cruel, forceful, overbearing and demanding. The Seeker didn't understand what it said but he got the intent quite clearly. He was to stop, to submit, to acquiesce – and the alternative was to lie stretched out in the dark that wanted still to devour him. He didn't want to be here any more. He whimpered quietly, softly, slowly getting louder as nothing happened still. He felt the new additions to his frame and while the collar meant nothing to him, the objects on his wingtips filled him with terror. All winglets learned soon that wingtips were sensitive and painful to any injury. Why would the voice put heavy things there he didn't know but they caused a deep dread in his mind.

The voice shouted again and the Seeker lay stock-still and fell quiet again. In his meta he was begging to be let out no matter the price, but he couldn't say it, the voice allowed no sound and no movement at all. It bellowed again and again until he was too afraid to even whimper and lay silent, swallowing his pain and fear. When the door of the box opened he lifted his helm but stayed quiet, wanting to flee but knowing that he could not. A few shivers shook his frame and wings from fear and exhaustion. In the opening a mech stood, one of the grounders of the kind that he saw sometimes in the canyon. He growled something that was clearly a warning and an object in his servo moved, crackling with energy, spitting sparks as he struck the edge of the box with it.

He understood. It was a threat if he did something that he wasn't allowed, a threat of pain. Not that he could do anything aside from lifting his helm. Which meant that this was all he was allowed to do. So far. In time the mech must let him up or so he hoped. He was left there still, but at least the box was open and it greatly helped to his frame of mind. In time he noticed that the restraints, the heavy chains were less taut again, allowing a little movement to his aching limbs. Not enough to even see if he could remove them somehow, only to make small claw marks on the floor, just to remind himself that he could still move his servos.

The mech appeared again and showing the prod in one servo, pushed a small bowl in front of him with the other. He could just lift his helm enough to see what it was – and recognizing the smell as energon, he tried to move forward to reach it. But he was stopped by the prod jammed into his plating, jolting him again like back there near the crystal forest. It was like the electric shock of some of his prey, only stronger than any of those. He stopped moving and after a little time the mech pushed the bowl close enough so it almost touched his helm. Being hungry he started lapping it, glancing to the mech sometime, fearing another jolt. But he was apparently satisfied with him, because the prod stayed away.

The recharge that came after was heavy and fitful at the same time, as the Seeker felt him moving, started dreaming – but was stopped and jolted that made him uneasily move again. It wasn't true recharge but he wasn't awake either, hovering somewhere at the edge of wakefulness. When he came online finally, it was not in the box which caused some happy, albeit slurred trills before he realized his surroundings. It was a kind of a box, only with bars that he could see through instead of solid metal walls and he still had chains too; only so long that he could even sit up from his slumber. The cage was in a large cave with smooth, straight walls and it had other cages too – with other Seekers in them as he noticed with a small shock. But when he tried to trill them they fearfully huddled and didn't answer to him. He realized why when the mech came to his cage, shouting and jammed the prod into him again. Sounds were not allowed. The Seeker whimpered inwards quietly.

He had to be silent and it wasn't easy for the Seeker who by nature almost constantly sang or trilled even when alone. But he didn't want the pain, not right after the horror of the box, so he stayed silent and instead of singing he started to check the restraints on his limbs. He quickly discovered that they were strong, much stronger than his claws that he tried to wedge underneath it – all he got was a few broken talons while the metal bands had not even a scratch on them. It was the same with the wing clips too – he couldn't get them off no matter how he tried, even with hurting his own wings too.

Then the mech opened a cage and clipping a leash on a dirty grey Seeker's collar led him out, in front of the other cages. The Seeker looked to be totally cowering, frightened of him, wings lower than a youngling and his optics full of pain. The mech shouted a short word and the Seeker kneeled. Another word and he stood up. He repeated the word and the Seeker the kneeling a number of times and he understood – the word meant a command to do a specific action. Then he shouted other words and the Seeker acted those out for them. Sit, bow, listen, silence… among others fly and land too. Fly? He wanted to fly again. He would have to learn the commands if he didn't want the pain of punishment but be able to fly again. It wasn't easy as the words were crude, flat and to the Seeker not very different from each other, but he tried hard to remember them.

Next they let his chains long enough that he could stand in the cage – and the dark mech stood in front of it, shouting the words at him and if he didn't do the correct thing – or not fast enough – then it was a jolt, but not from the prod, but the things on his wingtips. The first time he did it the Seeker screamed out it was so painful – and that got him the prod too, for being loud. But the mech didn't care about his pain and if he didn't do the things that he commanded, it was punishment first, then he got no energon that cycle. So he learned the words, the commands first, then the some other ones that the mech told to each other. The speech was strange, crude as they never sang, not even to each other and the Seeker missed the songs terribly – almost as much as he missed the touch of his kind on his wings that meant so much to Seekers.

He didn't know how long time has passed since he was in the cage, Seekers never needed counting the cycles. But it was over a season, he thought, maybe more and he was starting to get the itchy nervousness that grounded Seekers felt, even in the big cave. By this time he recognized about a dozen mechs, 'Decepticons' as they called themselves, and their designations and knew that somewhere behind the big doors at one end was freedom. But to escape was impossible, he knew. The only escape could be if they were let out of the cages and the chains too – and he wasn't optimistic about that. They knew he could fly and surely wouldn't let him fly away.

One by one the Seekers in the cages lost the proud flaring of the wings, the straight stances, the flames in their ruby optics and the resistance to commands; and became just as sad, obedient and fearful as the grey one that they saw in their first cycle. The tricoloured Seeker had his share of pain and punishment too to break his will – he could never be quiet when in pain. Once, he was rudely brought online from recharge – he dreamt about the golden Seeker again, wondering what became of him - and instinctly flashed his claws towards the intruder, catching a bit of plating – and he woke up fast as the mech shouted at him, jabbing the shock prod into the offending servo. He saw other mechs gather around him and his cage door opened the first time and there was pain from everywhere.

They grabbed his chains and dragged his twisting, jerking body out, through another set of doors until he saw the destination and tried to fight them in growing horror, still jolted by the devices but hardly feeling them. It was the box and they were trying to stuff his jerking, tossing frame into it again, amidst his horrified screams. He fought the best as he could chained, in pain and outnumbered but they were stronger and soon he felt pushed to the ground, a mech's weight pressing him down while his limbs were splayed out once again, immobilized and he could only scream terrified as he watched the heavy, solid door closing on him again, locking him into the darkness alone.

"He is a screamer, isn't he?" – was the last that he heard but it burned into his mind.

Everything played out once again, like after his capture. The darkness and the madness of locked into the small space, the screams that grew weaker, the indeterminable time that passed with horrors, the voice that shouted at him until he lay silent and obedient again whimpering inwards only. By the time the box opened again, he learned the lesson. Never attack them. Be obedient. Be wary. Be silent. He was let out then and put back to the cage, to continue the training. He did his best to learn and was surprised when he learned faster than most of the others. He was punished less and got more treats that tasted good – and it allowed him to learn even more of the flat words. They thought that the box broke him, but it only made him act like he was. It wasn't even a conscious act, just the necessity to show obedience and hide his real feelings.

Then he saw after one night cycle that some Seekers were removed from the cages and some new ones put in their place. He understood the why – the ones removed were the weakest who couldn't learn fast enough and their punishment made them even weaker, lying whimpering in their cages. The tricoloured Seeker didn't think that they were released to the wild – in his free life he never saw such broken, tortured Seekers anywhere he flew. They wouldn't survive in freedom in their condition, was the fleeting thought in his mind before he recognized one of the new ones, the golden Seeker that he met before his own capture.

3. Tamed

They were not far from each other and during the night cycle if they kept their voices low, they could sing a little telling what was going on, what happened – and what will. It made captivity both a bit easier and harder; to see him so close and unable to touch was driving him slowly mad, almost as fast as the box and its darkness. His temper grew and he was punished a lot once again, even put into the box one more time. When he was returned, the golden Seeker was on the other side of the cavern, a cage as far from his as could be; the mechs realized their connection and didn't allow it. Suddenly the Seeker was glad not to have a trine or a bondmate; it was painful enough to be separated from the one he was just interested in, but it would be outright agony with a bond.

But soon enough once again he recharged strangely deep after the daily energon and when he came online it was another place yet again. A cage like before but no chains any more. It was strange to be able to lift his servo freely, to move around in the bigger cage – even as he noticed the additions to his frame and limbs that he would have to learn the reason for. There were less cages here with new Seekers that he mostly hasn't seen yet, but they all seemed to have the same resigned, obedient look as he did. He was shocked when a mech came into the hangar, opened the big doors and behind them it was the wonderful, clear blue sky that he hasn't seen in ages. All Seekers stood and stared at it with hungry, wishful, longing optics, keening and whimpering according to their tempers, frames flush to the bars, servos stretched out in longing to touch the sky…

The tricoloured Seeker didn't know whether he should rejoice to see the sky, the freedom again – or despair to see it from a cage, unable to attain it. He was sure that they wouldn't be released, the mechs did a lot of work training them to obedience and not for letting them fly free. It was some kind of a trick, he thought as the mech simply opened a cage at the end of the row and stood beside it calmly. The blue and yellow Seeker in it glanced at the open door and the mech some times before he inched toward the irresistible pull of the sky. And the mech let him. The tricoloured Seeker's resolve that it was a deceit wavered, as hope started to rise in him, against all reasoning. Could it really be…?

The blue Seeker was out of the cage and broke into a run, clearly unable to use his thrusters, but wanting to feel the freedom, to run away from the pain anyway. But the mech lifted a black cylinder in his servo and pointed it at the rapidly dwindling form of the Seeker and somehow he knew what was going to happen. The small, blue form fell onto the ground outside, obvious pain racking his body, a couple of mechs appearing and dragging him back to the cage screaming and thrashing. It was a deceit, the tricoloured Seeker decided, or rather a new lesson. They can't fly away, the mech have the means of punishing from distance too. That's why the chains were gone, he realized, because they somehow put the restraints under his plating, the strange, alien devices that he felt but didn't know what they were for. He knew now.

One by one the cages were opened and the mechs waited until the Seekers in them couldn't resist the pull of the sky, the oh-so-close, oh-so-taunting promise of freedom. All of them were felled before getting far and dragged back. He closed his optics when his turn came, but still felt the pull, still hoped that freedom would be just outside, if only he could be fast enough, so that maybe he could escape… but he knew that he couldn't outrun the pain and he didn't move. Shuddering, whimpering, but he stayed in the open cage, refusing the false freedom. He heard the talk of the mechs, tagging him with the word 'clever' as he heard many times, and he refused to succumb to the deceitful pull. When he heard his cage door close, the Seeker felt his spark wrenching in pain – but he had a small feeling too that he won something. He didn't know what or how, but this suffering had a tiny bit of a victory in it too.

When they all learned that escape was impossible, the doors to freedom were closed again; but surprisingly the cages were opened and the Seekers let out to the free space in the hangar. Not that they dared to go out at first – the lessons were still fresh in their minds, but the mechs all disappeared and the tricoloured Seeker decided to test this apparent, small freedom that they had. It didn't have the same deceitful feeling than before. He stepped out of the cage, halting and starting again, fearful but determined. He wanted to touch someone's wing and be touched in turn. He needed it. He chirped quietly as he approached a lone, red and green Seeker who also dared to move to the edge of the cage.

A quivering, sky blue servo reached out to cautiously touch a red wing and the other Seeker moaned as he felt the so long missed contact. As no punishment came he too moved out from the cage, lifting a servo to the dirty white wings to reciprocate the touch that soon turned into cuddling. They didn't know each other, there was no pull or even familiarity, but they both needed a Seeker's touch and they succumbed to the marvelously good feeling that neither had for so long time. Their trills broke some kind of a dam as Seekers of all colours left their cages and imitating the two of them started to cuddle and hug. Soon the hangar filled with strengthening trills, snuggling frames and one pair, a bonded one was into interfacing as soon as they could reach each other.

The pandemonium was going on for some time before some mechs appeared in the smaller doorway. They moved towards the Seekers, shouting the command for the cage, lifting the prods threateningly. He understood, sort of. Free time was over and a new lesson would start soon. He trilled a listen/beware/mechs to the cuddling, happy Seekers, calling their attention to the mechs in the door. He showed example to the others with tearfully breaking apart from the red-green Seeker and went into his cage. Some of them followed his example, but some wanted to remain outside a bit more… they were of course punished with the shock rods and dragged, pushed, forced back into their cages. They realized the real punishment when the next such time came and those who weren't fast enough to go back in time had their cage doors remain closed.

But before that the expected lesson came. A mech, a bigger one than the others they saw so far came in, dragging a smaller, weaker one with him. He threw the green mech onto the ground and pointed his shock rod to its chest area, painted with a big, red shape that looked faintly like a face. He made sure every Seeker was watching – and then calmly, meticulously tore the smaller mech apart amongst pained screams and begging from it. It wasn't hunting as he let the mech's energon flow out to the ground, the Seeker thought, it was just deactivating the mech for their lesson. But why? So far they were punished for attacking the mechs and heavily at that. He didn't understand it.

The big mech left, and came back, this time with a companion but dragging another one as well again. He pointed to their chests again and deactivated viciously one of them again. The tricoloured Seeker thought hard to find the difference that he was supposed to learn. Two mechs, one killed, one left alive. The colours were different but all mechs had different colours. They were both small but close to each other in frame size. They were both grounders with wheels. Then he thought he saw one difference; the mechs had a different coloured face painted on their chest plates. The deactivated ones had red face, the other had purple. He remembered the mechs guarding them and they too had the purple face on them. So there were two groups of mechs that he had to tell apart from then on. One was not to attack, the other was… prey?

None of the other Seekers seemed to make the connection. The big mech left and returned again with two mechs, obviously wanting to repeat the lesson until they learned it. The tricoloured Seeker hesitantly lifted a servo, out between the bars, pointing towards the one with the red-face. The black mech nodded and again said the 'clever' word before tearing apart the indicated mech again. He got an energon treat that was the usual reward for learning fast. The next time he was let out of the cage when the big mech returned with the two smaller ones again. Never before he was let out in their presence and he was afraid as well as anxious with not knowing what to do. Should he just point on the red face again or should he attack the smaller mech? He was telling something but fear made his words jumbled and the Seeker got nothing from it that he recognized.

He glanced at the big mech who was clearly waiting for him to act. He must do something, decide some way, even if he had no idea what or why. Hesitantly he lifted a servo towards the red face marked mech, flashing the claws towards his face, indication of imminent attack. The black mech nodded, letting the small one drop from his grasp and waved him to continue. They both stepped back, the ones with the purple face while the third started to hobble painfully towards the outside door on his damaged legs, babbling still something that the Seeker recognized as begging. But he got the commands from the purple face marked ones, the 'Decepticons' as he remembered the word, and he moved after the small mech, pouncing on him as though he was hunting, the movement returning to him with the ease of long practice. The mech was not that different from the many life-forms that inhabited the highlands and the Seeker saw no reason now that he made his decision to stop.

His kill was faster than the big mech's as he never saw the reason to tear his prey apart. He only hesitated at the end, when the small one's spark was extinguished, whether to drink its energon or not. It was similar, but not quite the same as the ones that inhabited the highlands. It spoke, not like his kind, but still a language and Seekers, although they occasionally killed each other in a fight, but never drank the loser's energon. He tasted the pink liquid on one claw but the taste gave him no secrets and no answers. Still, he decided not to do it with the one he killed now – but turned towards the big mech, wanting to know if he acted acceptably or not; whether it would be a treat or a punishment.

And so a Decepticon Seeker was made.

Note: The story is prequel to the Fly high fic, but I plan a few more shorter stories between these two as well.