[IDW] Truth in Advertising - Complications
a/n: Update and flash fic fill in one. Go me! This is SFW though sadly there isn't any actual Blurr in here. Oops. ;)
Title: Complications
Universe: Truth in Advertising, IDW RID AU
Character: Starscream, Wheeljack, Rattrap, Jazz
Rating: T
Warnings: None really. Some flirting?
Description: Starscream ruminates. Rattrap finally has a name. Jazz swings by to flirt.
For exographik's Flash Fic prompt of Blurr/Starscream, they say silence can heal but I know it can kill
He hadn't spoken to Blurr in three days.
He told himself it was because Blurr was the one who had been rude; therefore, Blurr should be the one to initiate contact. Starscream was not about to admit the real reason. Not even to himself.
It was fine. Because Starscream had Work to do. He had an investigation to complete. He had to make sure his city was running properly and that his citizens were getting the assistance they needed. Supplies were running low in the medquarter. Starscream had to make arrangements for the medics to get priority.
One of the Decepticons had shown up at the wall, brand in hand, asking for asylum. Starscream recognized him as a low-level grunt and granted him a pass, though he was subjected to numerous scans and he was being shadowed for the next week by one of Rattrap's lackeys. Yes, even Rattrap had lackeys.
Starscream wouldn't put it past Soundwave to send in a spy. Even an obvious one.
So he was busy. He didn't have time to think about Blurr. Right now, he had work to do. He'd worry about that particular business venture when it became important again.
Besides, he didn't need Blurr. He had a friend and a willing set of audials. He had Wheeljack. And right now, Wheeljack couldn't even talk back.
He couldn't do much of anything but float in his regen tank and heal.
Starscream paced around the tube. The sound of the energon and nanite gel bubbling had started to become soothing to him. It represented peace. A lack of judgment. A level of comfort Starscream could not have expected.
“There's something else going on. I don't have names, but I'm going to get them,” Starscream said as he continued the same circuit. “Blurr doesn't get it. This isn't about who is faster or stronger or was a Wrecker. It's about politics. It's about playing smart. It's about... yes, it's about knowing how to stab someone in the back.”
Starscream knew all the rumors. His reputation. The tasteless jokes. Some of it was true and well-deserved. Yes, he'd made a habit of turning traitor. Yes, he and Megatron had never seen optic to optic on anything. It meant Starscream was good at sniffing out lies and deceit.
Blurr wasn't and never would be.
“And the last thing I need right now is for someone to assassinate him. He's my ally. My public ally. Can you imagine how bad that would look?”
Starscream's comm chirped.
He paused, wings to the regen tube, and acknowledged the hail. “What do you want? I'm busy.”
“I have that information ya were lookin' fer, boss,” Rattrap said, sounding more than a little proud of himself.
Starscream grinned. “Meet me in my suite then. I don't want to talk about this over open comms.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Rattrap closed the comm with a click, leaving Starscream with dead air. He rolled his optics and dropped the comm.
“Well, looks like I have work to do,” Starscream said and he turned back to face Wheeljack. He didn't know how much longer the engineer would need to be in here. Frankly, he was impressed Wheeljack had survived at all. “Try not to miss me.”
Starscream grinned, winked, and took his leave. He locked the doors behind him, both old-fashioned physical locks and triple-encrypted electronic locks, and made his way back upstairs. He'd claimed this entire building for his own, though the floors between the basement and his penthouse loft were unoccupied at the moment.
He suspected that Rattrap had claimed one of the rooms for a nest, but until it became relevant, Starscream was going to let it slide. He kept his enemies closer after all.
Maybe he ought to move Blurr in here.
Starscream almost laughed out loud at the thought.
He arrived at the door to his suite and was greeted to the unpleasant sight of Rattrap loitering outside it. He could not have possibly beaten Starscream here. Which meant he'd already been waiting by the time he commed Starscream.
He didn't think Rattrap could get any creepier until now.
Starscream frowned. “This had better be good intel,” he said as he keyed in his code and the door slid open. He'd have to change that later. “And I want sources. No guesses.”
“Whatever ya say, boss.” Rattrap trailed in after him, bringing his trademark odor with him. Ugh. Starscream would have to fumigate later, too.
He really needed to think about modifying one of the lower levels into some kind of office. He'd put that next on the list and hire one of the freelance construction mechs in the city. Surely someone could use a ration card or two. Or extra shanix to waste in one of the bars populating New Iacon like a bad case of rustmites.
Maccadams was still the favored. Something which ought to make Blurr proud.
“What do you have for me?” Starscream asked as hit the button for the lights, illuminating the interior of his suite. It was sparsely furnished still, but he would adjust that with time.
“A designation,” Rattrap rasped. He sounded like he'd been sneaking around the lower levels again, where there was no ventilation and the air was clogged with smoke and particulate. He poked around until Starscream glared and that was enough to make Rattrap stand by the door.
Starscream moved to the window, opening the shutters to look out on the city. It was getting late, almost night-cycle. “Who?”
“Obsidian.”
Starscream whirled toward Rattrap so fast his wings almost smacked against the window frame. “He's dead,” he hissed.
“So're a lot of mechs. Seems like people just don' stay dead anymore.” Rattrap shrugged, but it was far from nonchalant. “I ain't sayin' ya hafta believe me. I'm just tellin' ya what I know. And I know that Obsidian's here. On Cybertron.”
This was unexpected. This was unsettling. This changed a lot of things.
Starscream paced away from the window, clasping his hands behind his back. His frown etched into his faceplate.
“What's he doing here?” Starscream demanded as possibilities unfurled in his processor. Possibilities and threats.
Obsidian was a Decepticon only because he refused to be an Autobot and also refused to be a Neutral. He always claimed to fight for the protection of Cybertron. He was an extremist, the sort that believed sometimes in order to protect something, you had to destroy it. He was worse than Megatron, not that it said much, and Starscream thought he was dead because Starscream had killed him.
On Megatron's orders, but still. One did not try to lead a coup against the Decepticon warlord. Starscream took special exception to someone trying to steal the throne that was rightfully his. In fact, it wasn't long after Obsidian's failed attempt that Megatron formed the Decepticon Justice Division.
“Dunno,” Rattrap said. “Dunno where he is either. Just that he's hidin'. Dunno why he's doin' it or how many he's got, except that it ain't just 'Cons. He's recruited Bots and NAILs, too.”
“An equal opportunity terrorist,” Starscream mused aloud. His engine rumbled with discontent.
This was a much bigger problem then some malcontent trying to make things difficult for Starscream. Or Soundwave having found his sneaky way back into the city to cause problems and free his precious leader. Starscream knew Soundwave, could plan for Soundwave. But Obsidian was a wildcard.
Obsidian was the type to kill anyone in his way, no matter if they were innocent or not. And the only individual he loathed more than Starscream was Megatron. Blurr truly didn't know what kind of mire he'd stepped into.
“Find him,” Starscream demanded as he pinned Rattrap down with a look. “I don't care how, but you find where Obsidian is hiding.”
“Ain't gonna be easy.”
“Nothing ever is,” Starscream sighed. He pinched his olfactory sensor, tension replacing all semblance of calm he'd obtained.
“Whatever ya say, boss.” Rattrap sketched a salute and slipped out the door. It clicked shut behind him and suddenly paranoid, Starscream coded it shut.
He didn't know who Obsidian had recruited, but he did know that they were good. Good enough to sneak around Maccadams without being seen. Good enough to sabotage the power grid without leaving clues. And good enough to hide their identities.
Starscream suspected he only knew Obsidian's identity because Obsidian wanted him to know.
Primus. This was not the headache he needed right now.
“So things are getting a bit more complicated, huh?”
Starscream's wings tensed. He turned slowly, wishing he wasn't so surprised to find Jazz lounging in the door of his berth room. The former Autobot was casually leaning against the frame, one ankle crossed over the other, his arms folded under his bumper. He was smirking, but then, he usually was when he came around to taunt or threaten Starscream.
“How long have you been here?” Starscream demanded. He didn't bother to ask Jazz how he got in. He was well-acquainted with Jazz's ability to get into places he shouldn't.
“Long enough.” Jazz tilted his helm. “Obsidian, hm? You might be in over your helm, Starscream.”
“I can handle myself.”
Jazz pushed off the frame and crept into the main room, his posture casual but he never failed to carry a hint of menace. “Sure, sure,” he said. “You always so mean to your toys?”
He should have known this was coming, too.
Starscream planted a smirk on his face and started to circle Jazz. “The only one allowed to break them is me,” he said as Jazz tracked his movements with that unreadable visor of his. “It's a harsh lesson, I know.”
“So you're worried?” Jazz said. His glossa flicked over his lips, hip cocked toward Starscream. “Feel like I should be jealous. Thought we had something special.”
Starscream snorted. “Concerned about my investment? Yes. Us?” He reached out, finger flicking one of Jazz's tires and setting it to spin. “Special is not quite the term I'd use.”
“I'm hurt.”
“No, you're not.” Starscream smirked and came to a stop in front of Jazz. They were within arms reach of each other, not that it mattered. Jazz could kill him from up close or far away. “What are you here for, other than telling me to take better care of my toy?”
Jazz examined his fingertips. “Figured if anyone knew what that threat was about, it would be you. And what do you know, I was right.” He slanted a look toward Starscream. “Come on. There's a berth right there. What do ya say? For old times sake?”
He knew enough to know that Jazz wasn't serious.
Starscream flicked his wings. “What do you know about Obsidian?”
“I know that he hates you. Then again, who doesn't?” Jazz turned around, stupidly presenting his back to Starscream. Someone was feeling more than a little self-confident. Especially as he pushed his arms over his helm and proceeded to stretch.
Starscream would be lying if he claimed he wasn't interested. He liked racing frames and he knew very well Jazz's skills.
But he didn't trust Jazz and like the Pit he was going to let that menace into his berth again. They weren't in the middle of a war anymore. Starscream had better ways to risk his spark.
“How is he alive?”
“How do you think?” Joints popped as Jazz rose to the tips of his pedes and then down again, releasing a little hiss of ventilation. “His conjunx.”
“Strika.” Frag it. Starscream should have known. He'd thought Strika dead, too. But if Arcee had survived, small wonder that Strika did, too.
Jazz looked over his shoulder. “Yep.”
Starscream stared at him. “You've always known he was alive.”
“We might have been harboring him. Or maybe I had him stashed somewhere. Thought he could be useful. Oops.” Jazz shrugged and turned back around to face Starscream. “Or maybe I'm lying to see how angry you'll get and it's all one unfortunate coincidence.”
Starscream really hated spies.
He folded his arms over his chestplate. “Do you have anything useful to say?”
Jazz grinned. “Mech. I'm always useful. But what I know I'm not sharing right now. Call it an ace up my sleeve.”
Starscream ground his denta. “This is why there is no 'us'.”
Jazz laughed and strode toward Starscream's door, effortlessly hacking the panel in under ten seconds. “There are a lot more reasons than that, Star. Besides, you have a new toy. Go play with him.”
“I should think you wouldn't be encouraging this,” Starscream said.
Jazz turned in the doorframe and smirked. He gestured toward his Autobrands. “Yeah, well. Things change, right?”
“They certainly do.”
Jazz left, the door shut behind him, and Starscream heard it click to lock. Not that it mattered since he planned on ripping out the entire system and replacing it something far more secure. Too many rodents getting in here.
Starscream frowned and returned to the window. Obsidian was alive, and Strika with him. This was definitely a problem.
Heavy was the head, he thought. Heavy was the head.
***
a/n: I snagged the name Obsidian and the brief summary of the character from tf-wiki. This is not the Obsidian who appears in Combiner Wars. This Strika is also not the one from TFA. Neither of them are exactly like their other universe counterparts (Beast Wars, I think?) I can't remember if Jhiaxus had other victims other than Arcee, but I'm going on the assumption that if he was experimenting on one, he had others, too. Strika was one of his "failed" experiments here in my AU.
I needed an antagonist and I didn't want an OC or someone who was already busy and off doing other things in-universe. I was also hoping for one that hadn't been seen in IDW yet. As far as I know, there's been so sign of Strika yet. And Obsidian only just showed up. So there's my reasoning.
Phew. That being said, I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.
More fic to come!
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/296005.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
Title: Complications
Universe: Truth in Advertising, IDW RID AU
Character: Starscream, Wheeljack, Rattrap, Jazz
Rating: T
Warnings: None really. Some flirting?
Description: Starscream ruminates. Rattrap finally has a name. Jazz swings by to flirt.
For exographik's Flash Fic prompt of Blurr/Starscream, they say silence can heal but I know it can kill
He hadn't spoken to Blurr in three days.
He told himself it was because Blurr was the one who had been rude; therefore, Blurr should be the one to initiate contact. Starscream was not about to admit the real reason. Not even to himself.
It was fine. Because Starscream had Work to do. He had an investigation to complete. He had to make sure his city was running properly and that his citizens were getting the assistance they needed. Supplies were running low in the medquarter. Starscream had to make arrangements for the medics to get priority.
One of the Decepticons had shown up at the wall, brand in hand, asking for asylum. Starscream recognized him as a low-level grunt and granted him a pass, though he was subjected to numerous scans and he was being shadowed for the next week by one of Rattrap's lackeys. Yes, even Rattrap had lackeys.
Starscream wouldn't put it past Soundwave to send in a spy. Even an obvious one.
So he was busy. He didn't have time to think about Blurr. Right now, he had work to do. He'd worry about that particular business venture when it became important again.
Besides, he didn't need Blurr. He had a friend and a willing set of audials. He had Wheeljack. And right now, Wheeljack couldn't even talk back.
He couldn't do much of anything but float in his regen tank and heal.
Starscream paced around the tube. The sound of the energon and nanite gel bubbling had started to become soothing to him. It represented peace. A lack of judgment. A level of comfort Starscream could not have expected.
“There's something else going on. I don't have names, but I'm going to get them,” Starscream said as he continued the same circuit. “Blurr doesn't get it. This isn't about who is faster or stronger or was a Wrecker. It's about politics. It's about playing smart. It's about... yes, it's about knowing how to stab someone in the back.”
Starscream knew all the rumors. His reputation. The tasteless jokes. Some of it was true and well-deserved. Yes, he'd made a habit of turning traitor. Yes, he and Megatron had never seen optic to optic on anything. It meant Starscream was good at sniffing out lies and deceit.
Blurr wasn't and never would be.
“And the last thing I need right now is for someone to assassinate him. He's my ally. My public ally. Can you imagine how bad that would look?”
Starscream's comm chirped.
He paused, wings to the regen tube, and acknowledged the hail. “What do you want? I'm busy.”
“I have that information ya were lookin' fer, boss,” Rattrap said, sounding more than a little proud of himself.
Starscream grinned. “Meet me in my suite then. I don't want to talk about this over open comms.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Rattrap closed the comm with a click, leaving Starscream with dead air. He rolled his optics and dropped the comm.
“Well, looks like I have work to do,” Starscream said and he turned back to face Wheeljack. He didn't know how much longer the engineer would need to be in here. Frankly, he was impressed Wheeljack had survived at all. “Try not to miss me.”
Starscream grinned, winked, and took his leave. He locked the doors behind him, both old-fashioned physical locks and triple-encrypted electronic locks, and made his way back upstairs. He'd claimed this entire building for his own, though the floors between the basement and his penthouse loft were unoccupied at the moment.
He suspected that Rattrap had claimed one of the rooms for a nest, but until it became relevant, Starscream was going to let it slide. He kept his enemies closer after all.
Maybe he ought to move Blurr in here.
Starscream almost laughed out loud at the thought.
He arrived at the door to his suite and was greeted to the unpleasant sight of Rattrap loitering outside it. He could not have possibly beaten Starscream here. Which meant he'd already been waiting by the time he commed Starscream.
He didn't think Rattrap could get any creepier until now.
Starscream frowned. “This had better be good intel,” he said as he keyed in his code and the door slid open. He'd have to change that later. “And I want sources. No guesses.”
“Whatever ya say, boss.” Rattrap trailed in after him, bringing his trademark odor with him. Ugh. Starscream would have to fumigate later, too.
He really needed to think about modifying one of the lower levels into some kind of office. He'd put that next on the list and hire one of the freelance construction mechs in the city. Surely someone could use a ration card or two. Or extra shanix to waste in one of the bars populating New Iacon like a bad case of rustmites.
Maccadams was still the favored. Something which ought to make Blurr proud.
“What do you have for me?” Starscream asked as hit the button for the lights, illuminating the interior of his suite. It was sparsely furnished still, but he would adjust that with time.
“A designation,” Rattrap rasped. He sounded like he'd been sneaking around the lower levels again, where there was no ventilation and the air was clogged with smoke and particulate. He poked around until Starscream glared and that was enough to make Rattrap stand by the door.
Starscream moved to the window, opening the shutters to look out on the city. It was getting late, almost night-cycle. “Who?”
“Obsidian.”
Starscream whirled toward Rattrap so fast his wings almost smacked against the window frame. “He's dead,” he hissed.
“So're a lot of mechs. Seems like people just don' stay dead anymore.” Rattrap shrugged, but it was far from nonchalant. “I ain't sayin' ya hafta believe me. I'm just tellin' ya what I know. And I know that Obsidian's here. On Cybertron.”
This was unexpected. This was unsettling. This changed a lot of things.
Starscream paced away from the window, clasping his hands behind his back. His frown etched into his faceplate.
“What's he doing here?” Starscream demanded as possibilities unfurled in his processor. Possibilities and threats.
Obsidian was a Decepticon only because he refused to be an Autobot and also refused to be a Neutral. He always claimed to fight for the protection of Cybertron. He was an extremist, the sort that believed sometimes in order to protect something, you had to destroy it. He was worse than Megatron, not that it said much, and Starscream thought he was dead because Starscream had killed him.
On Megatron's orders, but still. One did not try to lead a coup against the Decepticon warlord. Starscream took special exception to someone trying to steal the throne that was rightfully his. In fact, it wasn't long after Obsidian's failed attempt that Megatron formed the Decepticon Justice Division.
“Dunno,” Rattrap said. “Dunno where he is either. Just that he's hidin'. Dunno why he's doin' it or how many he's got, except that it ain't just 'Cons. He's recruited Bots and NAILs, too.”
“An equal opportunity terrorist,” Starscream mused aloud. His engine rumbled with discontent.
This was a much bigger problem then some malcontent trying to make things difficult for Starscream. Or Soundwave having found his sneaky way back into the city to cause problems and free his precious leader. Starscream knew Soundwave, could plan for Soundwave. But Obsidian was a wildcard.
Obsidian was the type to kill anyone in his way, no matter if they were innocent or not. And the only individual he loathed more than Starscream was Megatron. Blurr truly didn't know what kind of mire he'd stepped into.
“Find him,” Starscream demanded as he pinned Rattrap down with a look. “I don't care how, but you find where Obsidian is hiding.”
“Ain't gonna be easy.”
“Nothing ever is,” Starscream sighed. He pinched his olfactory sensor, tension replacing all semblance of calm he'd obtained.
“Whatever ya say, boss.” Rattrap sketched a salute and slipped out the door. It clicked shut behind him and suddenly paranoid, Starscream coded it shut.
He didn't know who Obsidian had recruited, but he did know that they were good. Good enough to sneak around Maccadams without being seen. Good enough to sabotage the power grid without leaving clues. And good enough to hide their identities.
Starscream suspected he only knew Obsidian's identity because Obsidian wanted him to know.
Primus. This was not the headache he needed right now.
“So things are getting a bit more complicated, huh?”
Starscream's wings tensed. He turned slowly, wishing he wasn't so surprised to find Jazz lounging in the door of his berth room. The former Autobot was casually leaning against the frame, one ankle crossed over the other, his arms folded under his bumper. He was smirking, but then, he usually was when he came around to taunt or threaten Starscream.
“How long have you been here?” Starscream demanded. He didn't bother to ask Jazz how he got in. He was well-acquainted with Jazz's ability to get into places he shouldn't.
“Long enough.” Jazz tilted his helm. “Obsidian, hm? You might be in over your helm, Starscream.”
“I can handle myself.”
Jazz pushed off the frame and crept into the main room, his posture casual but he never failed to carry a hint of menace. “Sure, sure,” he said. “You always so mean to your toys?”
He should have known this was coming, too.
Starscream planted a smirk on his face and started to circle Jazz. “The only one allowed to break them is me,” he said as Jazz tracked his movements with that unreadable visor of his. “It's a harsh lesson, I know.”
“So you're worried?” Jazz said. His glossa flicked over his lips, hip cocked toward Starscream. “Feel like I should be jealous. Thought we had something special.”
Starscream snorted. “Concerned about my investment? Yes. Us?” He reached out, finger flicking one of Jazz's tires and setting it to spin. “Special is not quite the term I'd use.”
“I'm hurt.”
“No, you're not.” Starscream smirked and came to a stop in front of Jazz. They were within arms reach of each other, not that it mattered. Jazz could kill him from up close or far away. “What are you here for, other than telling me to take better care of my toy?”
Jazz examined his fingertips. “Figured if anyone knew what that threat was about, it would be you. And what do you know, I was right.” He slanted a look toward Starscream. “Come on. There's a berth right there. What do ya say? For old times sake?”
He knew enough to know that Jazz wasn't serious.
Starscream flicked his wings. “What do you know about Obsidian?”
“I know that he hates you. Then again, who doesn't?” Jazz turned around, stupidly presenting his back to Starscream. Someone was feeling more than a little self-confident. Especially as he pushed his arms over his helm and proceeded to stretch.
Starscream would be lying if he claimed he wasn't interested. He liked racing frames and he knew very well Jazz's skills.
But he didn't trust Jazz and like the Pit he was going to let that menace into his berth again. They weren't in the middle of a war anymore. Starscream had better ways to risk his spark.
“How is he alive?”
“How do you think?” Joints popped as Jazz rose to the tips of his pedes and then down again, releasing a little hiss of ventilation. “His conjunx.”
“Strika.” Frag it. Starscream should have known. He'd thought Strika dead, too. But if Arcee had survived, small wonder that Strika did, too.
Jazz looked over his shoulder. “Yep.”
Starscream stared at him. “You've always known he was alive.”
“We might have been harboring him. Or maybe I had him stashed somewhere. Thought he could be useful. Oops.” Jazz shrugged and turned back around to face Starscream. “Or maybe I'm lying to see how angry you'll get and it's all one unfortunate coincidence.”
Starscream really hated spies.
He folded his arms over his chestplate. “Do you have anything useful to say?”
Jazz grinned. “Mech. I'm always useful. But what I know I'm not sharing right now. Call it an ace up my sleeve.”
Starscream ground his denta. “This is why there is no 'us'.”
Jazz laughed and strode toward Starscream's door, effortlessly hacking the panel in under ten seconds. “There are a lot more reasons than that, Star. Besides, you have a new toy. Go play with him.”
“I should think you wouldn't be encouraging this,” Starscream said.
Jazz turned in the doorframe and smirked. He gestured toward his Autobrands. “Yeah, well. Things change, right?”
“They certainly do.”
Jazz left, the door shut behind him, and Starscream heard it click to lock. Not that it mattered since he planned on ripping out the entire system and replacing it something far more secure. Too many rodents getting in here.
Starscream frowned and returned to the window. Obsidian was alive, and Strika with him. This was definitely a problem.
Heavy was the head, he thought. Heavy was the head.
***
a/n: I snagged the name Obsidian and the brief summary of the character from tf-wiki. This is not the Obsidian who appears in Combiner Wars. This Strika is also not the one from TFA. Neither of them are exactly like their other universe counterparts (Beast Wars, I think?) I can't remember if Jhiaxus had other victims other than Arcee, but I'm going on the assumption that if he was experimenting on one, he had others, too. Strika was one of his "failed" experiments here in my AU.
I needed an antagonist and I didn't want an OC or someone who was already busy and off doing other things in-universe. I was also hoping for one that hadn't been seen in IDW yet. As far as I know, there's been so sign of Strika yet. And Obsidian only just showed up. So there's my reasoning.
Phew. That being said, I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.
More fic to come!
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/296005.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.