• Published 24th Apr 2013
  • 4,875 Views, 499 Comments

Transformers Armada: Starscream's Requiem - Legofan



Unicron awakens, threatening Cybertron's existence. Galvatron refuses to see the truth, however, and Starscream sacrifices himself to unite the warring factions. But instead of death, Starscream is gifted with continued life in a new land.

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Chapter 1: Where am I?

And that was it. Starscream was no more; a pile of dust, a mere memory. A failure and an oath-breaker. A noble soldier and a heroic unifier. But most importantly, he was dead. But if he was dead, why was he here, in this endless wasteland of dry soil, dead trees, and eerie green mist?

Slowly, his systems began to reactive. Electricity surged through his body, and his now energized form began to rise from its resting spot. He rose on all fours, and his eyes flared to life, emitting their standard orange glow.

I'm alive.

Starscream looked at himself, checking his body out it disbelief. He had been disintegrated! How could he have survived that! Oddly, though, his body wasn't the same as it was compared to before. His original Red and white color scheme had returned -Thank the Allspark that I don't look like Tundercracker anymore- and there were some odd changes to his form.

His new form was equine in nature, forcing him to stand on all four of his limbs, and his hands and feet had disappeared, replaced with rectangular pivoting hooves. Strangely, his back legs had an odd bend just above the joint to his lower leg, and the entirety of the leg had been slimmed down; the wings that were on his knee were only half the size that they had originally been. His body was longer than it was tall, and what had originally been his chest was now on his underside, with his original back resting on top. His thrusters were still planted next to his head, which now looked up at an odd angle, thanks to his slightly elongated neck. The most notable change, however, was with the wings on his back. Instead of jutting out, they were folded neatly against his sides, and he found that he could control them in a similar manner as a bird. His Decepticon insignias had been removed from his wings as well, and were now located on each of his thighs.

One final detail, he noticed, was a gaping hole in his underside where he had just been stabbed with the Star Saber. Every time he moved a servo, a tiny electrical spark could be seen jumping across the broken circuit. That's not good, he surmised. Somehow, I think transforming would be a bad idea.

With his review of himself complete, Starscream finally diverted his attention to his environment. It was dreary and ominous; the ground was flat, its soil grey, dry, and cracked. Vegetation was scarce; at most, only a few decaying trees broke the horizon's flatness. The cloudy sky was just as bland as the rest of the world, being a light grey color. Sprouting up from random locations were clumps of green mist of varying sizes.

Starscream took a step. A sizable jolt ran through the open wound, causing him some discomfort. It was manageable, though, so he tried another step. Walking, he found, was natural despite his new form. He attributed it to a transformers' innate ability to adapt almost instantaneously to a new mode or form.

The ground crackled underneath the weight of his heavy hoof steps as he trudged through the barren wastes. His walk started at minutes, but soon stretched to an hour. During that time, nothing about the atmosphere of his surroundings changed. It was eerie and unsettling, but Starscream had found that the unchanging environment no longer interested him. His mind was on other things, sifting through the many questions about the immediate situation that he had no answers to. How am I alive? Where am I? Why am I here?


Hours dragged on as he trotted through the still unchanged landscape. The same couldn't be said about the sky, however. Whatever sun this place had had set, plunging the land into near complete darkness. Near complete, except for the light from the sparks emitted from Starscream's belly every time he moved. The light, however, was unnecessary, as he normally had good vision in the dark. Not nearly as good as his daytime vision, it was, but there was really nothing to see anyways.

Finding a large tree, Starscream decided to stop and let himself rest. He wasn't tired or low on energy, but he wanted to take a break from moving so that the arcing electricity in his belly wouldn't melt or otherwise irreparably damage anything. No longer distracted by walking and looking about for anything of interest, Starscream's mind began to wander, going back to the last few moments before his disintegration by Unicron.

He had done what he thought was right. He had let himself be killed in an attempt to get Lord Galvatron to see the truth behind the threat Unicron posed. He let himself die to preserve all that he loved. He had things to die for.

At that thought, Starscream smiled. Regardless of the fact that he had no idea where he was and doubted he would see anything or anyone from before his death, the thought that his well being mattered to someone was an uplifting thought.

And then his mood soured. Galvatron is not my Lord. Galvatron is a fool! He is blinded for his unjustified hatred of the Autobots. He'd never see the truth in anything a traitor like me has to say. It was a waste of my efforts, and a waste of my life. I loathe you, Galvatron.

His wings were flared, for a reason he didn't know. Perhaps it's a result of anger? Additionally, his left wing had popped out several inches along a thin pole. Starscream looked to his wing, immediately recognizing it as his sword ready to be wielded. Needing a distraction from his thoughts, he reached his right hoof over to his extended wing.

To his amazement, the hilt magnetized to his hoof. He pulled it completely out, and the blade folded out twice into the longsword that had always been his only reliable counterpart. To his disappointment, it was much shorter it was before his disintegration, but it was at least proportional to his new dimensions.

Giving a few test swings, he found that his sword behaved just as if he still had his hands. The odd body angle was the only obstacle, but that was easily overcome by rising onto his hind legs and using his thrusters for balance. The maneuver caused a substantial amount of sparking from his wound, enough so that it actually hurt. Replacing his wing, he set himself on the ground and promised to not engage his thrusters until he found a way to repair himself.

With nothing better to do, he sat haunches on the ground and set himself into a sleep-like mode.


Something was moving. He was still in his sleep-like mode, but that didn't mean that he was completely deactivated. An infrared scanner that activated whenever he put himself in this state was detecting several heat-emitting figures that weren't there before, and were moving. Trying to react quickly, he authorized his booting protocols, ignoring system diagnostic messages about massive power leaks related to his chest wound.

The boot time for a transformer was actually exceptionally long, considering their level of technological proficiency. It took at least a minute for his nervous sensors to get to the point where they were receiving inputs. One of the things was poking him. After another minute, he was fully functional, and he raised his head to see what was disturbing him.

He had never seen anything like them, but they had a strange semblance to his new form. All seven figures were equine in nature, and were all either solid black or a very dark shade of grey. Except for the tall one in the center of the group which had long cerulean hair and gaunt green eyes, they all had short, spiky hair and foreboding pupil-less blue eyes. Each of them had a horn sticking out of their forehead, with the tall one's being significantly larger and more wicked, and they all had a pair of insect-like wings over their exoskeletal bodies, and an intimidating pair of fangs sprouted from each of their mouths.

Oddly, all of their legs were completely riddled with holes, from hoof to shoulder and thigh, and they all looked extremely emaciated. In fact, so much of their legs were missing that they didn't even look like they would be able to physically support their weight.

The most notable feature of the invaders was their size. The six smaller ones were smaller that him in stature, but only by a few inches at the least. The tall one, however, would be a couple of inches taller than Starscream if they were to stand side to side. It also wore a dinky looking crown on its head.

Upon rising to his hooves, the one that had been poking him leapt back and, along with the others, formed a circle around him, with the tall one facing him directly. He looked from creature to creature, trying to get a clue as to how they were feeling, but he could only partially decipher the tall one's emotions thanks to its disproportionately large, expressive eyes.

It was fearful, understandably, but also awed and curious. The two parties simply stood in an awkward standstill, neither willing to make a move. Some of the smaller beings, however, shifted their weight around nervously.

Starscream mentally scrolled through the situation. These might just be wild creatures, or they may be this land's inhabitants. They don't seem to have seen anything like me, and are curious and scared, like the humans were. I should have considered how I would interact with the locals before. Slag, what do I do?

I could try to speak with them, but I know nothing about them. I doubt we speak the same language, and even if we did, I wouldn't want to offend and risk being attacked. I'm in no shape to fight, thanks to Galvatron. It's probably best if I retreat and isolate myself from them...or anything about this world, for that matter. I shouldn't disturb anything here, lest I cause a serious disruption.

Unexpectedly, the tall one stepped forward. Starscream, caught up in his analysis, jumped back at the sudden move. Immediately, his instincts kicked in and he made to retreat. Being surrounded by these things and a tree on all sides, and not wanting to fight, he did the only sensible thing: transform.

Or, at least he tried. He issued the command to his systems and they tried to comply, but the sudden use of so many motors and servos at once caused a devastatingly high voltage surge throughout him. Slag, the wound! was his last coherent thought before the surge backfired and scrambled all of his systems. He groaned in immense pain as the electricity felt like it fried all of his internal components. He was certain that the creatures were highly confused at what they were seeing, but he couldn't tell, for his eyes were not responding.

It only lasted a few seconds before emergency systems went online to redact the transform command, but the damage had already been done. Starscream went into an induced hibernation state, and his body toppled unceremoniously to the ground. The orange of his eyes dimmed to nothingness, leaving everything quiet again.

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