“This is the hive,” announced Chrysalis to Starscream as they walked side-by-side through the hive's tunnels. He looked about with disinterest, noting how the rough walls, like the landscape he had been in not too long ago, seemed to never change, with the exception of the occasional doorway.
For a species with change in its name, there's a surprising lack of that. Its walls were curved and the ceiling was oddly low, giving Chrysalis only a few inches of space between the tip of her horn and the rocky ceiling. The place was illuminated by torches identical to the one in the room he had awoken in, bathing everything in green light.
“This is the place that we call home,” she continued. “It has almost all of the amenities that a changeling would need to be happy here; beds, water, waste disposal; just about everything. As long as you're here, feel free to take advantage of our hospitality.”
“I thank you for the offer,” replied Starscream. He glanced back to the guards from before who were now trailing them before looking back to Chrysalis and asking, “You said 'just about everything'. What do you mean by that?”
She hesitated before responding. “It's not important for you to know. So long as you're our guest, you need not bear our burdens.”
“If what you're hiding will affect me, I believe I have a right to know,” countered Starscream.
Chrysalis sighed. “Not knowing won't affect you. But, if you are insistent on knowing, I will tell you when we sup this evening.”
“Right...”
With that, the conversation ended, and the group fell into an awkward silence, that was only broken several minutes later when Chrysalis asked Starscream, “You said you were from a different planet. Cybertron, was it? Tell me, what was that planet like?”
“Yes, I was wondering when you'd ask me about that. You've taken to the fact that I'm an alien quite well; far better than I thought you would.”
“It isn't uncommon to run across something of an unknown species here,” explained Chrysalis. “And, being changelings, we are often on your end of the situation ourselves, so we know how unsettling and uncomfortable it can be. You've taken to waking up on an alien world quite well yourself.”
Starscream smiled slightly. “We found ourselves on foreign worlds quite often. I appreciate the empathy, and I see no harm in describing Cybertron to you; if anything, with you being the host and me the unknown creature, you have a right to know a bit about my background.
“Cybertron is the planet that is the home of my species, which are known as transformers. Transformers are highly complex robotic organisms," he explained. "Similarly, Cybertron is a planet made entirely of metal and machines. A very long time ago, several million years ago, in fact, Cybertron was a peaceful place. There was no war or strife; there was merely life. Eventually, however, a delusional transformer by the name of Megatron formed dreams of power and control. He started a movement to reform Cybertron from a peaceful democracy to a regimented dictatorship, with himself as the monarch.
“His movement slowly gained supporters, and through underhanded political measures, members of his movement found themselves in seats of power. From there, his movement, then going by the name of Decepticons, began to enforce their plans. A revolution formed soon after, going by the name of the Autobots, and it was lead by the heroic and noble Optimus Prime. It was only a matter of time before Megatron turned the conflict from the political battlefield to the real one. He and his supporters reformatted their bodies to include weapons and other tools of warfare. The Decepticons drove the Autobots to do the same, and since then, the two factions had been warring."
The group rounded a corner. Starscream looked to Chrysalis, who gave no indication of having anything to say, prompting him to continue. “Now, there was another faction involved in the war: the minicons. The minicons are small transformers who could combine with a full sized one and give them a massive power boost or new ability." He looked to his thrusters, suddenly curious if he would ever get to use his proton cannons again. "Once the war broke out, Megatron discovered this, and made it his quest to locate and utilize all of the minicons and use them to wipe the Autobots out. In response, the Autobots also tried to claim the minicons in order to protect them from servitude by the Decepticons. The Autobots eventually gathered them all and helped them escape Cybertron on a spacecraft to be safe from the conflict.
“This plan was thwarted by the Decepticons when they intercepted the vessel and caused it crash land on a distant world. It was later discovered that the minicon ship landed on the planet Earth, but this discovery was only a recent one. In the meantime, the two sides continued to fight; the power hungry, warmongering Decepticons versus the just and righteous Autobots. The war has utterly destroyed the surface of Cybertron, to the point that the fighting had to be moved to other planets, including Earth. And, to make things worse, the conflict rages to this day.”
With his recollection complete, he looked over to Chrysalis, who simply stared at the hallway ahead of her. She appeared deep in thought. He allowed her a few minutes of silence to process what she had been told before his impatience got the better of him. “There was something I said that's troubling you, isn't there?” he asked in a low voice.
“Your kind's conflicts are capable of destroying worlds. From what you have said, the Autobots seem to be the good side of the conflict, and the high regard you hold them in leads me to think that you are an Autobot. Is this correct?”
Starscream winced at the question. “I don't know.”
“I'm going to assume that your cutie mark is the insignia of your selected faction. Am I right?”
“Cutie...mark?” Starscream confusedly asked.
“The symbol on your flank.”
“Oh.” Starscream turned to look at the purple icon on his backside. “Yes, that is correct, but it wasn't much of a choice.”
The changeling turned her head to face Starscream. “And what faction is that symbol for?”
Again, Starscream winced, and he turned his head away in shame. “Decepticon.”
Concern flashed across Chrysalis' face, and she reverted her gaze to ahead of her. “Starscream,” she started, following with a sigh, “you do realize that, with this new knowledge, you are now an extremely dangerous threat to my subjects? And as such, I need to know if I can trust you, and if I can't, I will have no choice but to remove or eliminate you. And that is something I don't want to do. At dinner, we shall discuss these advancements further. For now, let me continue showing you around the hive.”
The tour had been cut off early, as some official business arose that needed tending too. After Chrysalis had left, Starscream had been brought to his room -for it was officially his room- where he sat, feebly trying to find a way to repair himself. His hooves were surprisingly able to grip things, but they were simply too wide and not dexterous enough to effectively manipulate any of his internal components, even with the panel on his chest opened to allow for easier access.
He needed fingers.
Starscream tossed the chopsticks that he was holding to the floor in rage after they failed to help him achieve his goal. Closing the panel, he opted to lie down on the now repaired slab to sulk while a skinny changeling in the room, previously introduced to him as Dread Wing, went to retrieve the chopsticks and return them to the table. Starscream watched the changeling go about the chore, and several questions sprang to his mind. “What's your role in the hive, Dread Wing?” he asked.
“I'm a scout,” he answered plainly. “A recent injury rendered me unable to perform my duties, so while I recover, I'm now your larvalsitter.”
“Would you have bothered helping me if it weren't for Chrysalis telling you to?”
“No.”
“What do you think of Chrysalis as a leader?”
“Chrysalis is a fine queen,” the changeling proudly responded. “For hundreds of years, she's kept this hive alive and well. That's not to say she hasn't made mistakes, but whenever she does, she will try to repair the damage caused by it and learn from it, ensuring not to repeat it.” Dread Wing's expression grew sad. “Sadly, though, I don't think we can rebound from our most recent failure.”
“What failure would that be?”
“This is something I cannot divulge without permission,” replied Dread Wing harshly. “The queen will tell you whilst you eat.”
“I've been meaning to ask about that; is this a private thing or does the entire hive eat at once?”
“It is private. The queen has always had the courtesy to invite newcomers to a private dinner to discuss things on their first evening in the hive.”
“I see...” he said, ending that line of thought and beginning another. “You wouldn't happen to know of anyone able to assist in repairing me, would you?”
“Noling in the hive has any real experience dealing with machines.”
Starscream huffed and turned away. “Slag,” he muttered under his breath. He quickly turned back to Dread Wing. “There is a sparring room, correct?”
“More accurately, it's a training room, but yes, there is one. I'm supposing that you want to go there?”
“Indeed.”
Dread Wing made for the door. “Very well, Starscream. Follow me.”
The training room, like every other aspect of the hive, was a rectangular cave-like room, its black walls lit only by the green torches that lined it. It was by far the largest room Starscream had been it since entering the hive. Along the far wall was a weapon rack, equipped with swords, hammers, axes, and crossbows, among other things. On the left side of the room were four dummies in the shape of equines, and opposite of it was a small field for one-on-one sparring.
Dread Wing walked to the center of the large room before turning to address Starscream. “The training room. This is where our soldiers are trained to protect our home and to imitate warriors from other areas. It's not in use now -actually, it hasn't been for a while- but when it is being used, we have instructors trained in all types of combat styles giving instructions. Changeling soldiers are some of the best on Equus, not only for their versatility, but for their ability to shape shift.”
Starscream had entered the room during Dread Wing's brief introduction, and behind him, the two guards from earlier had also entered, their hooves ready to draw and swing their weapons on a moment's notice.
“We don't have the means to get you an actual sparring partner -not that the queen would approve of that, anyways- but the dummies there are regenerative, so they return to their original shape after a few seconds of not being hit. Not effective for getting experience, but it will keep you limber if you're afraid of getting rusty.”
Starscream walked over to inspect the dummies, which were simply black, immobile forms in the shape of an equine. “You've no idea what it's like to get rusty,” he muttered to himself.
“Now, what weapon were you hoping to get some practice in with?” asked Dread Wing from across the room. He pulled a dagger from the rack for himself, then looked to Starscream for a response.
“I've got my own,” replied Starscream. His wings flared out and his sword popped out of its socket like before, and he grabbed it. The weapon folded out into the familiar longsword.
For several seconds, none of the changelings said anything, simply staring at Starscream while he ignored them. “That was unexpected,” Dread Wing finally said, replacing the dagger and instead equipping a crossbow. The guards, however, had their own weapons drawn and were ready to retaliate against any sudden move.
One was made, and after a poorly executed diagonal swing, the dummy's lobbed off head fell to the floor. Starscream bounced on his unoccupied hoof a couple of times to get it to a spot where it provided better balance. Once satisfied, he looked to the jagged line that marked where the dummy's head had once been. This form really screws with my swordsmanship, he noted.
Suddenly, the dummy and its decapitated head burst into green flame, startling Starscream. He jumped back and gave a high pitched yelp. After a second, the flames were gone, and a fully repaired dummy stood in its place.
Dread Wing laughed, and the two guards couldn't resist letting out a snicker, but Starscream continued to ignore them, instead focused on improving his technique in this form without using his thrusters.
Starscream practiced for a couple of hours, disappointingly making very little progress. He managed to learn to do a downward diagonal swipe without losing his balance, but almost every other maneuver eluded his abilities. To his satisfaction, the guards and Dread Wing had sheathed their weapons, too, finally getting the hint that Starscream wasn't going to attack them.
Eventually, though, Dread Wing walked next to Starscream to deliver a message. “The Queen requests your presence for dinner in her chambers.” Hacking the dummy in half one last time, Starscream's sword turned back into a wing and he followed Dread Wing out of the room.
They walked the halls in near silence, the only sounds being chatter from changelings elsewhere and the heavy sound of Starscream's hoofsteps. Not more than five minutes later, they reached a doorway that, except for being larger both lengthwise and height wise than the other doors he had seen in the hive, was no more impressive.
“Put on your best manners; she's in there. She requested you alone. We'll be out here waiting for you to finish. Best not keep her waiting.”
Without any type of farewell gesture to his escort, Starscream put a hoof to the large stone door, pushed it aside, and stepped in.