Chapter Text
“I demand at least one troop to guard our last energon mine. Autobots will surely try to take control back there, since it is an abundant source. We’ll be there when they dare to do so.”
“Yes, Lord Megatron. I’ll send a few troops right away. Is there anything else you want me to do?”
Walking through the cold halls of the Nemesis, his heavy steps steady, Megatron stopped suddenly to look at the mech walking by his side. The mech stopped with him.
“Not yet,” Megatron stated. “You are dismissed, Dreadwing.”
The mentioned mech gave the warlord a wordless nod to go on walking, but had to stop when the warlord called his name again even before he could take a step forward.
“Dreadwing.”
Dreadwing turned his helm to the warlord. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”
“I require Starscream’s presence in the command section in twenty minutes for the meeting. Inform him.”
Dreadwing was now giving another nod to Megatron, his steps already ready to leave for the last place where he had seen the air commander. “Yes, my Lord.”
(...)
“What do you mean you can’t find him?” Megatron would be roaring at a random Vehicon in the command section.
Dreadwing had sent him a ping some time ago that his Second In Command’s commlink was not online and he was nowhere to be found in the ship. Every Vehicon was forced to search everywhere for him by Megatron himself, yet it was just as if the seeker disappeared into thin air.
Megatron was… angry, to say the least. He grabbed the Vehicon furiously and threw it along the section. Others quickly got back to flee from his way while a mech calmly passed through them to call the annoyed warlord’s attention.
“Lord Megatron,” said Shockwave.
Megatron’s red optics darted on him immediately as he managed to speak with less aggravation in his voice. “Yes, Shockwave?”
“I heard about Starscream’s absence. Have our troops found a sign of him yet?”
“No, not yet,” Megatron grumbled. “I haven’t seen him today, either. A strategy meeting is urgently required.”
Shockwave remained silent for a while after Megatron’s words, seeming to think about something.
“...Lord Megatron, I might have a solution.” the scientist finally replied, his tone slightly unsure.
Megatron was looking interested enough in his following words. “...Proceed, Shockwave.”
“I’ve been recently studying on a teleportation machine that is supposed to operate with necessary identity values. I haven’t tested it yet, but this situation might be a dependable trial for me, as well.”
A teleportation device— Megatron could give it a chance. If worked, it also could be a useful weapon against Autobots.
Megatron nodded Shockwave in approval, even calmer now. His helm pointed to the gate as he talked. “We shall see what it can do.”
(...)
And so, after a few minutes, Megatron and Shockwave were in the scientist’s laboratory to see what the teleportation machine could do.
Shockwave was walking closer to the control panel placed next to the empty metal cabinet while Megatron watched him carefully in silence.
“I only need to enter Starscream’s identity values to the panel. The panel controls, and processes them,” explained Shockwave, his digits were working on the screen, typing the seeker’s required identical values.
“Then it detects the location?” asked Megatron. It sounded like the most logical conclusion.
And it was— which was confirmed by the scientist himself in his next words.
“Affirmative,” Shockwave acknowledged. His servos finally unmoving, he turned his helm from the panel to the warlord. “We are ready.”
He was waiting for the warlord’s command.
“...Operate it,” was the only word that came out from Megatron’s mouth afterwards— and Shockwave switched the lever without a word.
The machine started to make some sounds as the two mech stood still, watching it with caution, their optics focused. Their deep silence lasted for some time with the sounds coming from the machine— until the sounds abruptly ceased and the machine was dormant.
Only for a moment, the two mecha looked at one another, then at the closed door of the metal cabinet. Quietly, Megatron’s heavy steps drifted closer to the cabinet to listen inside— but there was neither sound nor a voice— none by the time someone hit the metal door from inside of the cabinet.
And luckily— maybe unluckily, a screechy voice followed right after it.
“You can’t keep me here!” yelled the voice, muffled by the thick metal.
In confusion, Megatron and Shockwave did not talk while they shared another short look before the warlord grabbed the handle slowly to open the metal door, slightly curious. The voice did not sound like Starscream— then who was it?
“Open it!” the voice screamed again, and Megatron opened the door suddenly— only to get lunged at by a small mech who was seemingly very annoyed for being kept in a cabinet.
Despite his astonishment, Megatron was quick to regain his strength upon stumbling a little back with the swift attack, and he was struggling to grab the smaller mech now.
“You—” the warlord tried to hold the mech still as the mech was trying to climb upward on his body so he could hit him more. “Who— Who are—”
“Who am I ?” yelled the smaller mech. “ Who am I? You are the one keeping me in, you idiot! How dare you! Who are you to keep me—”
When Shockwave attempted to interfere, the warlord stopped the scientist with a raised servo and he soon managed to grab the mech still by his arms— a deafening scream tore from the strange mech instantly, which made the warlord wish for being deaf.
“ENOUGH!” Megatron bellowed furiously, his servos tightly squeezing the smaller mech’s arms. The mech had wrapped himself around him like a cyber tick, yet went silent as quick as a cyber cat after the warlord’s angry shout.
“For Primus’s sake… Shut it,” growled the warlord upon a short silence, his tone still aggressive but less loud. He eventually got to take a proper look at the smaller mech’s face, who was quietly sulking at him now.
Watchful, the red optics of Megatron began to move on the mech’s crumpling expression. The face plate was lightly darker on the cheeks like a blush, and the optics were colored in an unique tone of red— crimson.
Megatron quickly, easily, threw him off of himself. When the smaller mech fell on the ground with a thud and a painful whine, the warlord turned his gaze to the scientist, pointing his sharp claw down at the mech indifferently. “What is this abomination?”
“Lor—”
“I am not an ‘ abomination’ !” yelled the mech, whining, but he knew better than attacking the warlord this time. He simply stayed on the ground with his servos hitting down like a fussy sparkling. “I am the—”
“I told you to shut it,” Hissing angrily, Megatron’s scowling gaze was over the mech once again. “...Stop throwing tantrums like a fragging sparkling.”
“ You stop insulting me first.” the mech would cross his arms while pouting at him, grouchy. “Just because you are big does not mean you can insult me.”
Megatron’s annoyed face turned into a slightly dangerous one before he tilted his helm in intimidation, his threatening steps getting closer to the mech. “But it does mean I can rip your voicebox out.”
The small mech looked genuinely scared while hiding his throat with his servos, however, it did not deter him from talking back to the warlord. “Keep your dirty servos off me, you brute.”
Shockwave only watched Megatron frown upon the immature insults thrown at him.
“My servos are not half as dirty as your mouth,” the warlord commented humiliatingly, his gaze analyzing the petty face. It looked much younger than his. “I’d suggest you learn how to talk with your elders.”
“You are not my elder or whatsoever,” the small mech snapped in a low tone, while the warlord’s optics were already shifting over him, looking his body up and down. Involuntarily, the small one found himself looking back.
“...You do not look like a Cybertronian,” Megatron interrupted the intense silence with a flat tone.
Rising from the ground just now, the small mech couldn’t help himself darting a resentful glance at the warlord after his words, his arms flinging wide dramatically and a mixed expression of annoyance and shock on his face. “ Excuse me? I am a Cybertronian!”
“Who–”
“More than you are! You rude, spiky scrap!”
An abrupt silence fell as soon as the small mech interrupted the warlord’s words without even thinking.
“The only thing you seem to me is an abomination,” the warlord spat, his optics narrowed in rage as he slowly walked up to the small mech. “...a very insolent one. The only reason I haven’t torn out that worthless voicebox of yours yet is that I’m trying to understand what the exact frag is going on here. But I will not hesitate to tear it out if you do not keep it quiet next time I am talking. Do you understand me?”
Remaining silent upon the harsh words and heavy steps getting closer to him, the small mech retreated carefully to preserve the distance between— until his wings leaned against a thick, cold wall that made his body shiver for a moment. His defiant optics finally moved up to the warlord’s in a wordless protest when he finally got backed into the corner.
“...That’s more like it,” Megatron grunted after he stopped in the smaller mech’s face. His focused gaze explored the unusual color scheme that caused his frown to deepen because of its catchy colourfulness. A bright tone of sky blue was covering the arm plates and some parts of the lower legs after the pedes; while an outstanding tone of red prevailed on the chest part, the back ventilations and the hips. The cockpit was fully orange. A light gray was standing itself out on the rest of the body— on some parts of the legs, on the upper arms, on the… wings.
Megatron suddenly noticed a purple brand on the small mech’s wings— none other than the Decepticon insignia itself. As if it was even possible, his frown intensified even more with deeper confusion, which led him to direct more questions.
“You are a Decepticon?” asked the warlord in a slight curiosity, halting. “...I do not remember seeing a mech with such… ridiculous colour scheme in the troops before.”
The small mech was not quite happy to hear how the warlord’s voice sounded while he was talking about his color scheme. “Who are you calling ridiculous?”
Megatron ignored his annoyed reaction. “What is–”
“Who are you calling ridiculous, you— you—!”
At least, he tried to before the small mech jumped up to punch him right in the face. “You spiky, ugly, rusting, crusty—!”
With a mad, mad groan, Megatron quickly grabbed the small mech’s arms in a forceful grip before raising his body up, fully removing his pedes from the ground. Body hanging in the air, the small mech squirmed in the warlord’s tight grip desperately, struggling to land himself back on the ground.
“Let go of me!” the smaller mech shrieked angrily. “Let go! Do you even know who I am, you idiot ?”
“I do not! That’s what I’m trying to ask if you even happen to stop your fragging whine!” shouted Megatron, his uncontrollable anger had already risen wild while he shook the smaller body in the air. “What is your designation , you witless wretch?”
“ How come you do not know me, you disrespectful, ignorant fool?” The mech was shouting back instantly, his body kept struggling, even harder now. “I am Starscream, you lunatic glitch! The Second In Command and Air Commander of Decepticons!”
With the small mech’s irritated words, Megatron faltered for a while, his face scrumpled in disbelief and aggravation. His red optics examined the mech’s appearance up and down closely once more, as though he thought over the words for a moment. Still, he ended up with the decision that the mech couldn’t be Starscream. He might be turning his helm away in anger whenever he saw his treacherous Second In Command, but he definitely knew that the seeker did not look like a fragging rainbow in their last encounter. “No, you are not.”
“What do you mean I’m not ? I am!”
When Megatron was just about to retort the mech’s fierce denial, Shockwave called his name in a monotonous, yet serious tone. “...Lord Megatron.”
As soon as the scientist spoke, the small mech’s helm turned to him suddenly, not knowing whether he should be surprised at his presence, or at the fact that he called the bigger mech holding him mid air ‘Lord Megatron’.
“Shockwave,” the bigger mech answered, optics on the scientist now.
“Shockwave?” parroted the small one in utter puzzlement, his gaze was now quickly moving between the two mecha as they seemed to ignore him for the moment. “...’Lord Megatron’?”
Shockwave drew aside to gesture at the panel screen, and the small mech, just like the warlord, looked at where he was gesturing.
“I believe he might be telling the truth,” the scientist stated, his digit pointing to the inputs on the screen. There were images and inscriptions of the small mech.
Megatron’s silent gaze stayed on the screen longly, thinking, trying to evaluate the complex situation they were in before he turned his helm to stare at the small mech in his hold again. He was truly unsure of what to do with him now— so, without a word, he just took him to the metal cabinet back, threw him inside and closed the door to keep him there. His servo settled on the door handle to hold it tight.
“Hey! Let me out , you rounded fool!” The small mech, just confirmed as the Starscream, was already banging on the metal door.
“Send him back,” Megatron ordered the scientist confidently, without any hesitation in his voice for the moment. “...To wherever he came from.”
“What do you think you’re doing? Free me this instant!”
While the banging went on, there was a short silence between the warlord and the scientist with the warlord’s words. Shockwave gazed at Megatron for a while, and Megatron gazed at him back.
“...I’m afraid the machine is not capable of it yet, Lord Megatron.”
The only thing Megatron could do in return was to make a low growling before opening the metal door back, allowing the Starscream out once more.
The Starscream was silent when he caught the warlord’s gaze. He did not get out of the cabinet as a cranky frown grew on his petty face.
“...I want to go home,” He pouted both at the warlord and the scientist. Megatron only frowned at him back with narrowed optics, while Shockwave, luckily, was not paying him enough attention to see his face at all— still, he answered him.
“You will,” Shockwave said indifferently when he was working on the panel. “...I’ll be working on it for a few hours, at most. Then you’ll be back to your own universe.”
His own universe. Perfect, Megatron thought to himself once he sighed deeply in frustration. All he had been looking for was his own treacherous Second In Command, and what he got was another Starscream from Primus-knows-where universe.
“My own universe?” asked the seeker, confused, he was slowly walking out from the cabinet now. “...I am in another universe?”
…And he was probably the most foolish one, too. Even more than his own Starscream— soon, Megatron found himself wondering secretly if the small seeker’s stupidity resulted from the small scale of his processor or his youth.
“I believe so,” Shockwave answered the seeker’s question without any comment. “There must have been a glitch within the machine’s circuits.
“We were expecting another Starscream.” added Megatron, his face crinkling right after with how odd the sentence sounded.
The Starscream’s thoughtful gaze focused on the warlord again with his words. ‘Shockwave’ looked just like the Shockwave they got back at home and he could tell without any hesitation that the mech was Shockwave— but Megatron, oh, Megatron… He looked different. Too different. He was taller, bulkier… Spikier, in a ridiculously annoying way. His shoulders were too broad. If he hadn’t just heard him being called Megatron, he would’ve definitely mistaken him for a predacon.
“You are not Megatron,” the Starscream muttered in disbelief, insistent, but his inner voice was telling him the exact opposite. “...You cheap knockoff.”
Megatron glared down at him. “You yourself look like a clown rather than a SIC if you do not have a mirror to see back there at ‘ home’ .”
Upon the warlord’s deprecating insult, the Starscream’s wings twitched in annoyance as his optics slightly widened, taken aback for a click. His servos slowly curled into tight fists.
“You wouldn’t know what a beautiful mech is even if you see thousands of them. But you could hardly see even one with that appearance of yours.”
“A beautiful mech?” Megatron couldn’t stop himself scoffing. “Are you the beautiful mech?”
“You are ugly.” petulantly grumbled the Starscream. “You tasteless Megatrons are all the same.”
Megatron seemed as if he was just about to say something, yet then, for some reason, he decided not to. Instead, after darting a short glance at the working scientist, he pulled the small seeker to himself and wrapped his one arm around him tactlessly while guiding him towards the gate.
“Let’s have a walk, Starscream,” the warlord spoke, more like a demand than an offer, the name of the seeker spat out with slight amusement.
“Let’s not,” quickly refused the Starscream, despite the threatening hold of the warlord. He wriggled under his thick arm uncomfortably. “...Your stupid thorns are stabbing me.”
“You are being overdramatic.” Megatron kept directing the smaller mech, yet he still loosened his arm a little just before they left the scientist in the laboratory to work without their interruption— the whiny seeker’s interruption, in particular.
“...So, are you really him? I mean… another him?”
The warlord looked down at him for a short moment as they continued to walk together in the corridor. “Him, who? Megatron?”
The seeker nodded without a word. Deep down inside, he already grew aware of it after noticing the bigger mech’s aggressive demeanor and attitude were annoyingly similar to his Megatron, despite the substantial difference in their appearance; yet he still wanted to hear it clearly from the mech himself.
“Yes, clearly. Is it too difficult for you to believe?”
With Megatron’s mocking words, the small seeker frowned at him. “You didn’t believe me either when I told you I was Starscream, you old– old—”
Megatron questioningly raised an optic ridge when the seeker faltered and stopped walking looking at his face. He stopped too, his expression a bit impatient, yet did not talk.
“...You don’t have a nose.” The seeker was simply staring at his face now, his curious gaze lingered on the warlord’s face until he decided to reach out to it.
“Why should I have a ‘nose’ ?” Megatron grunted, irritated while turning his helm away from the seeker to prevent him from touching his face. He didn’t even know what a ‘nose’ was supposed to mean.
In silence, the seeker paused for a click with Megatron’s desperate and annoyed question— the warlord was right. This was not his universe.
But he himself still had a nose.
“I have a nose,” the Starscream spoke boastfully as he lifted his helm, his index finger lightly tapping on his nose to show it to the bigger mech. “This is my nose.”
Megatron leaned closer slowly, his optics narrowed while he took a nonchalant look at the seeker’s nose. “...It looks useless.”
The seeker’s arching shoulders dropped in grouch with the warlord’s careless words. “Don’t be jealous just because you don’t have it.”
“I couldn’t care less about your nose.” Megatron straightened up again to go on walking, removing his arm from the seeker’s body now that they were away enough from the laboratory. Still, the small seeker followed his steps behind through the corridor just like a cyber pet as he had predicted.
A few minutes following the moment was silent, neither of them talked as they were marching forward in a temporary peace. Megatron’s steps were heavy, yet quick, so the seeker finally found himself noticing he wouldn’t be catching up unless the warlord slowed down.
“Hey! Walk slower, you oversized fool!”
Megatron shortly turned his helm back very little, with a restrained exasperation on his face, but he did not walk slower. “...Walk faster.”
“Primus, is this the advice of my life or what? Your wit–”
“Silence.”
“Your wit–”
“Silence,” repeated Megatron, stressing the word in a growling tone this time. His servo rose up to rest on his forehelm. “You give me a helmache.”
“...It’s because you’re old. You should go get your rusty circuits checked up.”
His helm snapping back at the smaller mech upon the so-called health advice, Megatron stopped walking abruptly, causing the Starscream to stop as well with a bump. “You will have to go get your circuits checked up if you dare to insult me once more.”
The seeker seemed to get quiet for a moment, almost as though a faint flicker of genuine fear glimmered in his optics when the warlord loomed over him threateningly, yet the following words coming out quickly refuted the faint fear.
“...You are so boring. I don’t know how your Starscream lives with you in his life.”
Megatron’s servos curled in strong fists before he hissed at the small seeker, his face gradually leaning closer to his. “I do not know where you are coming from and who exactly you are there, but we are an army here, not a fragging entertainment company.”
After Megatron’s aggressive words, there was a deep, tense silence between the two mecha until the seeker answered the warlord with a low, petulant muttering. There was a slight frown on his face now. “...We are an army too.”
“Great,” Megatron muttered back, his strict gaze moving down to the seeker’s small nose involuntarily just for a click. “...Then do remember this means I’m still your leader and you’re still my SIC , even if you are not my Starscream and I’m not your Megatron. Is that understood?”
The seeker did not speak as he only glared up at the warlord for a while.
Megatron waited silently for an answer, his sharp optics staying still on the other’s. He had no intention to let the disrespectful seeker go without acknowledgement. “...Tell me you understand.”
“...I do,” was almost a cranky murmur once it came out from the small seeker’s mouth.
Megatron’s silent optics narrowed a little as he looked for a tiny bit of childish insolence in the seeker’s petty face— until he decided there was none. Not for now, at least.
“...Are you still bored?” Megatron asked suddenly, changing the subject as he pulled back again with his servos locking behind his broad back.
The seeker remained unsure of answering him at first, yet he soon ended up with a nod. He had annoyed the warlord far too much already. He now should annoy someone else for a while if he loved his life— which he truly did.
The warlord returned the Starscream’s quiet nod before gesturing to the small mech to follow him. “Then let’s go see our medic.”