Transformers Armada: Starscream's Requiem

by Legofan


Chapter 14: Fixed and Freed

At some point after Rarity and the foals had gone to eat, Starscream found himself dozing off like Cyclonus and Scavenger were wont to do when there was nothing of significance happening. Before, he had simply assumed the two of them were just lazy for resting like that, but as he did it himself, he couldn’t deny that perhaps there was something to their methods, as he felt himself feeling slightly more rested after a few minutes. He would have to find time to sleep like that more often in the future, he decided.

It was a short lived happiness, though, for after what felt like only a couple of minutes in his drowsy state, incessant prodding at his side quickly awoke him. His vision was fuzzy for a couple seconds before finally focusing on the ceiling above. Looking around him, he noticed that he had rolled over onto his back whilst sleeping, and that Scootaloo, with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle behind her, was standing next to him, continuing to poke him despite his obvious signs of being awake.

Growing annoyed, he lazily rolled onto his side to face them. “Eh, whaddya want?” he asked groggily.

Scootaloo stopped prodding him finally and, meeting his gaze, asked, “We wanted to ask about your cutie mark.”

He sighed. That was something he didn’t want to discuss with anyone, but the rather adorable way the three of them looked to him with their wide, excited eyes made him think twice on denying them. “What’s it to you?” he asked after a moment of consideration. He figured that if their reason for wanting to know was good enough, then maybe he’d break and tell them.

“We just find it curious that you have a cutie mark just like ponies are supposed to have even though you’re an alien,” Sweetie Belle answered.

From back in the kitchen, Starscream heard the sounds of eating utensils clinking together, shortly followed by the sound of running water. Rarity hadn’t left from back there yet, and he figured that that was her cleaning off the aftermath of their meal. “Shouldn’t you three be helping Rarity with that?” he questioned, gesturing with a flick of his head to the kitchen.

“I offered,” Sweetie Belle defended -herself, at least- “but Rarity told me that she’d take care of it.”

“Alright, then.” Getting back on topic, Starscream said, “My sources tell me that cutie marks are supposed to be some sort of representation of its bearer’s special talent or something like that. Am I correct?”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Yup. They show what a pony’s real good at doin’. And, well…” she looked to her flank, which was bare of any such mark, “some ponies think that ponies without one aren’t good at anythin’.”

“Which is why the three of us have teamed up to form the Cutie Mark Crusaders and get our marks!” Scootaloo excitedly added.

“Oh…” Starscream said, realization dawning on him as he recalled a previous incorrect assumption. “That’s what Rarity meant when she called you guys ‘crusaders’. The term means something completely different where I’m from.”

The foals seemed to ignore his comment completely, though. “So yeah,” started Scootaloo, “we were wanting to ask how you got your cutie mark, and if there may be some cool alien stuff we could try to get our marks in.”

After some thought, Starscream relented, figuring that maybe he could impart some sort of lesson with the story behind his cutie mark, and where it had led him up to that point. And at least he was sharing it with an audience that didn’t hate him, giving him an opportunity to see which details needed omitting so that he didn’t seem as much of a monster when he finally told Twilight and her friends.

“Well, let’s see…” he began, trying to find a good place to start. “Heh, it’s kind of ironic, wouldn’t you think, that I happen to have one of these cutie mark things before you three, despite my kind not originally wearing any kind of markings in the first place?” he chuckled. “It wasn’t until recently, relative to the lifespan of a Cybertronian, that we began wearing symbols like mine. Do you know what ‘revolution’ is?”

“Yeah,” they answered.

“I’m not going to bore you with the politics of what happened, but there was a revolution led by a guy named Galvatron. He called his faction the Decepticons, and he lured bots, including myself, into his service with false promises of a utopian society.” Starscream sighed. “By the time we figured out what his true intentions were, we Decepticons had already been so warped by greed and fear of him that we continued to serve. The symbol I bear is that of the Decepticons. It has no inherent meaning, but if I had to assign it a cutie mark-like quality, I’d say that it indicates that my special talent, is, simply put, being evil.”

Their faces were unreadable as the three foals just sat there and stared at him. He looked towards the kitchen entryway to find Rarity giving him a concerned look, and he figured she had heard him as well. At this point, an admission like that wasn’t going to be too derogatory for him. He was, after all, being honest, and he planned on telling this information to Twilight and the others the next day anyway, although not as dumbed down as just then.

There was also the fact that he was actively trying to stop being evil, a fact that he was just about to voice, but Rarity spoke first as she approached the four of them. “Girls,” she said to the foals, but kept her sight on Starscream, “I’m going to have to ask you to retire early tonight. Starscream and I have business to attend to, and you still have school tomorrow.” An objection was obviously forming in Scootaloo, but Rarity quelled it quickly, saying, “I’ll let you have another sleepover to make up for this one once the situation with Starscream has been dealt with.”

“Alright, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle complied dejectedly, but made no further complaint as she led her friends to and up the staircase and out of sight. After the foals had left, both Rarity and Starscream were still and silent for several moments. It was clear by the concern in Rarity’s eyes what was on her mind.

“I, uh...I imagine you’re having reservations about undoing the kill-switch, huh,” Starscream finally said, standing up.

“You don’t say,” she shot back, the hostility in her tone startling Starscream. “It pains me to have to consider such measures, but it hurts more to know that they may actually be justified.”

He snickered lightly to himself, muttering, “What would have been ‘just’ would have been Dash dunking me into that lake. That would have ended me real quick.”

“I don’t think I could, in the right mind, undo the kill-switch without compromising the safety of Ponyville,” Rarity continued, apparently having ignored Starscream’s remark.

“You make it sound like I’m some sort of loose cannon that would just enjoy running rampant and destroying everything,” he retorted. “Demolisher may, but not me. I was just about to tell the foals that I was trying to be better before you cut me off.”

“Better how?”

“This message I’m supposed to be delivering,” he started, “it’s both a peace offering and a plea for help from my queen, who isn’t capable of delivering it herself. As such, I’ve volunteered to.”

Rarity’s expression softened, and she rested a hoof on Starscream’s shoulder. “Starscream,” she said, “why didn’t you mention that earlier? If you had told Twilight the nature of your message, she most certainly would have let you go see Celestia without fuss. Though I’m suddenly curious, now, to know who your queen is. As far as I’m aware, Equestria isn’t at war with anypony, so I can’t fathom who would need to send a peace offering. Also, didn’t you just say that this ‘Galvatron’ was your leader?”

“To be more accurate, I should have said ‘adopted queen’. Galvatron and I have had a falling out of sorts, which led me to her. Who she is, though, I can disclose only to Celestia, lest I or she be compromised.”

Removing her hoof, Rarity asked, “And why might you be compromised if you tell us?”

“I don’t know how you would react, and...I...I fear it may be violently,” Starscream admitted, hanging his head. “I’m paranoid like that.”

“Starscream, we are not hostile like that,” Rarity rushed to defend. “Well, most of us aren’t, at least. Violence is an absolute last resort, and the fact that this queen of yours, whoever she may be, is offering to resolve whatever conflict she has peacefully certainly says that such a resort would not be necessary.”

“I hope you mean that,” Starscream said softly, a thin smile gracing his lips. If faded just as instantly as he asked, “But, uh, what about the kill-switch?”

“Still won’t tell? Fine, keep your secrets,” Rarity said playfully, rolling her eyes and heading towards the staircase. “It is my duty as your host to make sure you are comfortable, and if you’re feeling imprisoned, then I obviously am failing that duty.”

While his expression remained stoic, the wave of relief that washed over him was no less immense, comparable to the elation he felt when he had claimed his first minicon. “Everything I need to get you repaired is upstairs,” Rarity informed. “Just give me a minute to gather it all, and then we’ll get started.” Not waiting for a response, she hurried up the stairs and disappeared from sight.

To pass the time as he waited, Starscream went over to the window and gazed longingly at the mostly clear night sky, save for the same cloud from earlier. Flight wasn’t something that he necessarily had a fixation for, but after nearly a month of being grounded, restricted, hindered, or otherwise incapacitated, he found himself wanting more and more to just go soaring as he admired the vast, vacant expanse of the sky. Without his wing, though, the true flight that he wished for would be unobtainable.

Flying for the sake of flying, eh? Never done that before, he mused, indeed having never done so. Perhaps I’ll take a week or two to just do that after this changeling business is concluded.

Deciding it was a good enough plan, he turned away from the window just as Rarity descended the last couple of steps. Around her, she levitated a spool of copper wire, a wire cutter, and a tiny square of black rubber. It seemed a rather small amount of things to repair something such as himself, but she knew what she was doing, he figured, and he wouldn’t question it.

“Alright, Starscream, if you could just lay on your side so I can easily access your damaged area, I can get started. If there are no complications, it should be less than a minute.”

“That quick?” he asked, surprised by the fact.

“That quickly,” she confirmed. “A fair amount of dealings with wire arise in my profession, typically when working with some of the headdresses, so I’ve learned some spells to melt small bits of wire on the spot.” She snipped a small bit of wire from the spool as she said this, about half a centimeter. “The melted wire is much easier to reshape,” Rarity continued, “and should be suitable for soldering together the two ends of wire that form the kill-switch.”

Following Rarity’s instruction, Starscream removed the taped-on sheet metal that covered his wound and set it on the nearby table, then laid on his side, exposing the opened wound to Rarity. On the same table, Rarity dropped off everything except for the bit of wire she had cut, then leaned in to inspect Starscream’s damaged area, which was crowded with wiring.

She hummed to herself for a second, then said, “I don’t have those convenient instructions that you came with last time I opened you up, and have forgotten exactly which wire the kill-switch was implemented in. I can find it easy enough, but it may cause some discomfort.”

“Whatever you need to do,” Starscream permitted.

Nodding, she used her magic to give a solid tug on the mass of wires. Except for one, all of them held. Starscream felt that connection break, sending a jolt through him that made him squirm. While it was expected, he couldn’t help letting a discontented grunt escape.

“I’m sorry about that,” Rarity immediately apologized, “but at least it worked and I’ve isolated the kill-switch.”

“No, it’s alright,” he tried to assure, looking to her. But she wasn’t listening. Instead, he eyes were closed tightly and the aura around her horn and the bit of wire shone brightly. He watched, mesmerized, as the once solid copper melted in the air before him, and after a few seconds, it was a mere droplet of liquid metal.

Another second passed, the bright lights toned down, and Rarity let out her held breath. She noticed the way that Starscream was staring. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Starscream answered, taking his eyes off of the melted metal to look to Rarity. “Just thinking that, if we had weapons that could have done something like that back during the war, it would have been much shorter.”

“It’s always violence with you, isn’t it?” Rarity asked pointedly.

Starscream scoffed and shot back, “Well, you can’t blame me for having spent most of my life fighting; it’s not like I want to be violent all the time.”

Rarity said nothing as she slathered the molten metal on the ends of the frayed wires, then repeated her spell on the bit of rubber, heating it so that it was pliable enough to wrap around the exposed, now whole wire. She wrapped the wire in the heated rubber, then held everything in place for a few seconds to let it set and cool. After another few seconds, she released her hold on the wire, finding that the repair held.

The repair was finished, Starscream could tell, but he noticed that Rarity seemed to hesitate it putting the cover back on. Looking back to her, he saw that her expression had changed, looking worried as she stared at her handiwork.

“Is it done?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” Rarity answered, a bit absent-mindedly. Her expression didn’t change.

“Is everything alright?” Starscream asked, genuinely concerned.

She didn’t respond for a few seconds, obviously trying to find the words to portray her thoughts. “Starscream...do you have any idea how much faith I’ve put into you that you’re not trying to deceive me?”

“I have some idea,” he answered. “It takes a lot of faith to trust a Decepticon.”

As soon as he finished saying that, Rarity whipped around to meet his gaze, startling him with a sudden shift to a more hostile demeanor. “I don’t know if you get this yet,” she started sternly, “but if you want ponies to like you, or at the very least not dislike you, you have to stop saying things like that.” She calmed slightly, then continued, “I’m trying to help you, Starscream, but comments like that make me more and more doubtful that doing so is a good idea.”

“If you doubt that it’s worthwhile, why are you helping me in the first place?”

“Are random acts of kindness so foreign to you?” she asked, sitting up.

Mirroring her motion, Starscream sat up as well. “No,” he answered, “but in my experience, there’s almost always some ulterior motive.”

“I wouldn’t call them ‘ulterior motives’, but I can’t deny that there is some reason behind my wanting to help you,” Rarity admitted. “Firstly, Rainbow Dash’s initial hostility towards you was completely unjustified, and until she realizes that she’s in the wrong and apologizes, I decided that I would take it upon myself to make it up to you.”

“So you know why she attacked?”

“Well, yes. All six of us know, and we’re all disappointed in her for it.”

There was an unintentional menacing edge in his voice when Starscream asked, “Would you tell me her reason, then?”

“I’m disinclined to tell you,” Rarity replied firmly, “not because I don’t want you to know, but because I think it’d be best if you heard it from Rainbow Dash herself, and have the two of you clear up your misunderstanding personally.”

Starscream decided not to press any further, deciding to instead cover up the gaping and unsightly hole in his chest. He grabbed the cover from the table behind him, and after fastening it over the wound and patting down the duct tape, he asked, “You said ‘firstly’. What other reasons are you helping me?”

“I’ll admit that my other reason is sort of...selfish,” she admitted, looking away and towards a mannequin behind her. “You see, I’m a creator, and as a creator, I enjoy seeing my creations work and be appreciated. And, having invested some effort into repairing you and making you work again, I can’t help but feel similarly about you.”

“I see,” Starscream replied thoughtfully. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, then, especially tomorrow.”

Rarity refocused on Starscream. “Oh, darling, while I appreciate the gesture, I don’t want you to be somepony you’re not on my behalf. Poor Fluttershy tried that already, and that turned out dreadfully.”

“I can at least cut back on the remarks, though, like you said,” Starscream tried to assure. “Today’s been stressful on me; give me a night, and tomorrow, you’ll deal with a far less crude and obnoxious Starscream.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Rarity remarked, a playful smile once again crossing her face.

She was feeling low, and you made her feel better. Congratulations Starscream, you’re making some progress already, he thought so himself, somewhat sarcastically.

“However, speaking of night, it is quite late, so I think I will retire now. Is there anything you’ll need?”

He diverted his gaze from her, looking instead out of the window, where it was nearly pitch black, clearly far later than he had anticipated it would be. “No, I’m fine. Go on to bed if you’re tired; I’ll probably follow suit shortly.”

“In that case, good night, Starscream,” Rarity said as she stood and began making her way towards the stairs.

“Good night,” he returned, maintaining his gaze. He listened to the sound of her hoofsteps as she delicately climbed to the floor above, growing fainter with each one, becoming inaudible after hearing the door to her room close.

It was a boldfaced lie, telling her that he would sleep soon. He knew that that wouldn’t happen. There were too many concerns and considerations floating through his mind to allow for that privilege. Sure, he had finally gotten the answer as to why Rarity was being so generous with him, but in the scheme of things, that was only a minor concern. Of more significance was the fact that, with each second that passed, the chances for delivering his message on time diminished significantly, especially after the lengthy delay forced upon him by Rainbow Dash already.

Maybe I should just tell them why I’m here, a part of him argued. Rarity has proven to be trustworthy, so if she says that I’d get to deliver my message afterwards, I should expect to be able to do so. It’s easier on everybody.

But, on the other hand, these ponies, particularly Dash, have already shown to be unpredictable, a different part of him countered. I was expecting to simply fly on into Canterlot, arrange a meeting then leave, but look how that turned out.

He shuffled over to the window and huffed. If I want to escape, then, now is the best time to do so, Starscream observed. I shouldn’t be here now anyway, the ponies don’t really want me here, and I don’t want to be here. It’d be better for everyone if I just left right now, did my business, and returned to the Hive to stay.

He let the thought stir for a while. If I can get my wing back, I can be in and out of Canterlot within a couple of hours, back to the Hive by late morning, and everything will be as it should have been.

He found the latch to the window, undid it, and opened it up. Even if I can’t get my wing back, I still have the cover of the rest of the night to get there and deliver my message without being stopped.

After hovering through the open window, which was just large enough to allow him through, he closed it as quietly as he could. It would be obvious to Rarity in the morning where Starscream went, as the latches would be undone, but if all went well, Starscream would be long gone by that time.

Sorry Rarity, but I can’t disappoint you if I’m not here. It’s for the best.

With nothing left to be done to cover his tracks, Starscream fled.