(Untitled)
In the undersea Decepticon base known as Terradessa-1, room C-136 lies empty and still, like many other rooms along this corridor. The whole of the base is more deserted than inhabited, and this room, like it's neighbor C-135, though technically assigned, usually stands empty
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More and more, Duskwing feels out of place. Things have changed with bewildering rapidity; it's not really his Cybertron anymore. The Decepticons he's known are gone. A few are on Charr, but too many are just... gone. Gone on, gone ahead, where Duskwing dreads to go, still fearing the unknown ( ... )
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"Duskwing?" he replies, swinging up to a seated position. "Hey."
Although Duskwing provides a welcome distraction from thoughts that had been rapidly spiraling toward turmoil, it's not really the actual distraction that Blackstar eagerly greets. It's Duskwing. He's missed the other spirit.
It suddenly occurs to him that, despite having been visiting the Nexus, despite having been silently hovering amidst the living mechs of both Earth and Cybertron, that... he's been lonely. His self-imposed exile, not only from the Allspark, but from those living mechs he's been hiding from, had eaten at him. He'd always been something of a loner in life, but the touch of the Allspark had kindled - no, rekindled that need within him for interaction. For camaraderie ( ... )
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"Nah, I guess I forgot to go find out," he says listlessly, his mind not really on the question. It's the previous question that's still bugging him.
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"But the guys I knew, sorta, that used to hang out in Oiltown or Poly Darkside, they're all gone. Since Megatron left. I can't find 'em no more." He finally raises his head; there's something forlorn and lost in his optics.
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But even then, he'd still had the Allspark singing in the back of his mind. Something that Duskwing has never had. It's a chasm of understanding that stretches between them, separating them.
"They're in the Allspark," Blackstar replies softly. "There's a place for you there, when you're ready."
He would bridge that chasm, if he can.
"Why didn't you ever move on there? What's holding you here, Dusky?"
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Unlike Starscream, Duskwing is not a pacer. He's quite happy to remain still most of the time; it's a mark of how upset he is that he restlessly walks to and fro.
He stops suddenly and stares angrily at Blackstar. "Because then it would be over!"
He drops his angry gaze to the floor again. "I never was no good for nothing but fighting, and not so good at following orders, so I never did much. Never was nobody to speak of. Stupidity in Blue, that's me, and that statue is the only thing about me that anyone remembers."
"I got stuck here 'cause I didn't know I was dead, but even after I knew better..." Duskwing looks imploringly at Blackstar. "I don't want it to be over yet. I don't want to have been nobody and done nothing, have cared about nothin', and no one cared about me. I want there to be something moreHis voice is raw with anguish, but there's something more, something ( ... )
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"I don't want it to be over yet."
Blackstar understands all too well, in his own way.
"You rated getting assigned to Megatron's own command, you know. Damn few mechs were ever good enough to earn that. I never did. I got booted out to a punishment outpost in the middle of nowhere, where they don't even remember the mechs out there who are still alive, let alone dumb saps like me that got themselves slagged," Blackstar replies quietly. It's not an attempt to distract or "one-up" Duskwing's tragedy; he's trying to show Duskwing that he's worth more than he's given himself credit for ( ... )
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"Wasn't exactly posted to the Nemesis because I was that good," Duskwing says, scowling. There's embarrassment shading his voice, and he doesn't meet Blackstar's gaze.
"The Autobots launched before everything was quite ready, see, so Megatron had to grab whoever was available to fill out the crew, right then," he says. "That was one crazy-aft launch--they hadda pump fuel and run supplies in and finish bolting parts on and get troops on board all at once, stuff you don't do 'cause it ain't slaggin' safe, but there wasn't no time to do it right, 'cause Prime had already launched the Ark ( ... )
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Perhaps it's the natural solidarity inspired by sharing the same relative state, however, he has come to think of the other spirit as his friend. Duskwing's depression pulls at him, all but demanding to be rectified. Blackstar is certain that he could show Duskwing the way, he just isn't sure he could resist returning there himself.
He knows this loneliness, though, in his own way, and it... it hurts to see Duskwing like this.
// Commander? Are you busy? //
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He's silent for a moment as he tries to organize his thoughts. Duskwing won't thank him for giving too much away, he guesses, but some xplanation is due, and Blackstar didn't trust anyone else either to understand this, or... well, to just trust them.
// Duskwing needs a guide, I think. He's... drifting. //
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( And what is happening in the long silences at Starscream's end? That will be recounted elsewhere )
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// Look, you've got Skyfire and the Decepticons to look after. I've got Strata, // he observes, trusting that Skyfire would have passed on the night's events from his own perspective. // He's got a statue of his own slagged shell named "Stupidity in Blue". And it may be a pain in the aft most of the time, but we've still got the Allspark. //
// He's lonely and he's drifting, Commander, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to show him the way. Not without help. // Maybe not even with help, but wingmates shouldn't leave their own behind.
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( And Starscream looks over at Skyfire with an expression of both regret and longing, for what he must do is going to grieve the shuttle immensely... unless Skyfire can believe.
Skyfire. His vocalizer is still under repairs, but not that other voice no mortal force can touch.
The strained tone of his spectral voice catches Skyfire's attention immediately; he steps over from his computer and looks down at Starscream, concern in his face. "What's wrong?"
Take care of me, Skyfire. I'll be back--I promise you that! I have to go for a bit; the Air Commander is needed; duty and more calls.
Blue optics widen; "Starscream! No!"--but it is already too late as an empty shell collapses to the berth.)
The spectral form of Starscream steps out of the ether in C-136; Blackstar's compartment has a full trine now.
I'm here! Skyfire is going to have seven kinds of fit over what I just pulled, though.
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"Commander?" Still, there's that hint of hope in his voice.
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