Just call me Florence Nightingale.
Nine Rings of Vos - Arc Two: Rebellion
A Transformers: G1 Fanfiction
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: The game of Love as played by students of War.
Timeline: More of this fic here.
=/=
(In which Starscream finds it hard to find good help.)
Pinwheel was determined not to show how much this nose-up little kite annoyed him. While technically not a real part of the Tower’s chain-of-command, Lord Starscream's personal assistant did have the authority to relay the Winglord’s orders to the security forces within the Tower. This did not, of course, grant the mech any real authority. Unfortunately, if any Seeker suffered a sin, it was pride that laid them low.
Still, arrogance Pinwheel could deal with, it was part and parcel of being a Primus-damned Seeker. It was the stupid that Pinwheel had an issue with. Yeah, okay, so most of the Seekers in purely administrative positions were too flighty or sensitive or what-the-frag-ever to have toughened up against the effects of exposure to Winglord level spark emission energies. He got that, really, these morons they kept foisting off onto Lord Starscream were not, you know, actually complete and utter bumbling glitches. They were, in fact, the best of their profession. Too bad for them, once they were face to faceplate with Lord Starscream their wits went MIA and they got, well, stupid was the only way to put it.
Pinwheel knew that the average Seeker got a bit fluttery around Winglord sparks. Strong sparks made the Windbond feel all tingly and shiny and safe, and it took a bit of practice to stay rational when you felt ridiculously happy and eager to please and were a klik away from cozying up to the nearest Seeker and purring. Guards who could not keep their heads focused on the job around high-level sparks did not make the cut for the High Tower posts, and Pinwheel had seen a gamut of reactions to the Winglords since he and Whirligig had been reassigned, but damn if all of Lord Starscream’s assistants did not have the most pronounced exposure reflex Pinwheel had ever had the pleasure of laughing at.
It was not as if Lord Starscream was a cruel taskmaster. He was just exacting, and brilliant, and worked hard enough to keep any three mechs run off their pedes just filing his outbox data. Sadly, this meant that there was never enough time for a new secretary to get over being ‘star-struck’ before they tried Lord Starscream’s short stock of patience to the breaking point by overcompensating for the situation with a need for constant direction when Lord Starscream was present. Half of them had gibbering meltdowns and had to be sedated. The other half took their feelings of inadequacy out on everyone else, which torqued off the guards and the rest of the administration staff.
Three guesses as to which kind this charmer was, and the first two would not count.
“The Winglord summoned me.” It would be sad if it was not so funny, the haughty panic that was unique to Lord Starscream’s temps. The twit was too focused on not looking stupid to notice that everyone else on the floor hated working with him. “Let me pass.”
Pinwheel made a show of scanning the secretary for threats before stepping to the side without saying a word, holding back the wickedly amused smirk until after the door had closed behind the administrative aide. Whirligig made a razzing noise that really said it all. Curious, Pinwheel glanced over at his wingmate.
“That one’s not going to last too much longer.” The bland comment was Whirligig’s typical understatement.
“Hmm.” Pinwheel restrained his urge to comment beyond a hum of agreement. The mech really should not have said ‘guards should be seen and not speak’. Once he stopped annoying them on a breem-by-breem basis, they would probably feel sorry for him. For now though, they just looked forward to being rid of him. Judging from the way the general mood around Lord Starscream’s offices was winding tighter and tighter, Pinwheel bet the fallout was going to be epic.
/…/
“Get out. Get out! Get out!” The new Winglord’s voice rose in a screech as yet another badly traumatized assistant bolted away. The pair of security guards did not so much as twitch a wingtip as the officious Seeker who had sneered haughtily at them not two cycles ago shrieked in fear and ducked the datapad flung at him by a highly irritated Lord Starscream. The impromptu projectile shattered upon its high-velocity impact with the far wall of the corridor. Still making little whimpers of terror the former personal assistant to the Winglord flinched as the pieces rained down, pinging off his armour with musical chimes. Another snarl from Lord Starscream sent the little busy-boosters packing, and the new Winglord-over-them-all stomped back into his office. “Primus is it too much to ask for a semi-competent assistant who will just do his job without bothering me?”
Whirligig deliberately did not look at his wingmate. The guard could feel Pinwheel’s suppressed amusement, and they both knew that they would crack up if they looked at one another. A guard collapsing in hysterical giggles was unbefitting of the dignity of the High Tower, so although their wings trembled with the strain of it, they kept to their posts.
They would have time to laugh about it after their shift.
/…/
Pinwheel owed himself a drink. Here was to hoping the next candidate was less of a complete failure.
/…/
“Useless, useless, useless! Get out of my sight you twittering incompetent!” Lord Starscream’s voice cut through both the air and the supposedly soundproof office door. Whirligig sighed quietly through his vents, exchanging a speaking look with Pinwheel. It was funny the first few - or five - times. Now it was just getting ridiculous.
/…/
“Who the frag are you?” Lord Starscream was frowning at a startled looking, brightly coloured Skyborn. Mildly curious, the guards turned to subject the new arrival to a security scan.
“Um. Your assistant? For now. Twister, Lord Starscream, from the base level. I’m filling in… until they find someone better?” Twister clutched a pile of datapads to his canopy as a flimsy defence against the Winglord’s sharp glare. Lord Starscream groaned at the idea of breaking in another one, and Twister wilted, a little, looking miserable and in definite need of feel-better snuggles. Twister’s voice was a sad little whisper. “I’ve been working for you for the last three megacycles, my Lord. Has my work been deemed unsatisfactory?”
Damn. Pinwheel did not know how Lord Starscream managed to stay irritated, the guard was horribly distracted by the need to scoop Twister up and cuddle him until he stopped looking so droopy. Blinking, Pinwheel’s thoughts paused as he looked over at his wingmate. Whirligig looked both bemused by the scene and puzzled by his reaction to it, meeting Pinwheel’s questioning look with a glance and a shrug. Yeah, Whirligig was fighting off the crazy-aft urge to hug the slag out of Lord Starscream’s newest minion too.
“What? Really?” Lord Starscream actually looked up from his work for more than a klik as he blinked at Twister. “I’ve never even seen you before now! Have you been hiding somewhere?”
“N-no. I’ve - I’ve just been… working?” Twister looked terrified as he screwed up the courage to lift his head a little. “Wh-why? Have I, um, have I done something w-wrong?”
“Oh for Primus sake stop stuttering! I’m not going to eat you.” Lord Starscream was already getting distracted by his work again, as he waved a placating hand vaguely in Twister’s direction. “I would have expected you to have asked me for direction by now. The others all came to me during the first cycle of their shift.”
“B-begging your pardon, Winglord, but… why?” Twister looked honestly confused as he fiddled with his stack of pads; dropping roughly half of the stack into Starscream’s to-do pile and snatching up the contents of the out-tray as if fearing Lord Starscream would bite him if he stayed within range for too long. “It’s not as if this job is very hard. S’just sorting and filing and asking visitors if they’ve made an appointment.”
Starscream paused in his work again and looked up, leaning back in his seat as he gave Twister his full attention. Taking a wary step back, Twister considered the distance between his position in front of the desk and Lord Starscream’s seat on the other side, then glanced at the door as if measuring his ability to escape before the volatile Winglord really did turn cannibal. Pinwheel grinned as he and Whirligig shifted just enough to partially block the exit. Twister would be allowed to leave when the Winglord dismissed him and not a moment sooner, and all the wide-opticked, adorable wibbling in the world would not change that.
“So you have no questions for me at all?” Starscream’s helm tilted to the side in consideration.
“I know how to do my job!” Twister’s wings snapped up in outrage. Wilted, again, as Lord Starscream looked at him. “My Lord Starscream, Sir.”
“Ha!” Starscream snorted, amusement settling the harsh angles of his armour into something smoother and far less aggressive. “You just keep doing your job then.”
“As you command, Winglord.” Twister bowed, turned, and walked out of the room looking confused about whether he should be pleased or not.
Pinwheel grinned as the secretary passed, hearing Whirligig choke back a snicker, but not well enough it seemed. Twister pinned both security mechs with a prim little glare, stuck his nose in the air , and flounced past them with a snooty little ‘tch’ of disapproval.
It took a moment, but Pinwheel eventually realized that he was grinning like a fool for no good reason, and so was Whirligig. Despite their best efforts, the giddy expressions remained in place for the rest of their duty shift. (Their commander told them off for disgracing the position.)
/…/
The wordless screech of outrage from his secretary made Starscream look up. Not that he was particularly concerned, but despite being a twit in all other areas, Twister was a demonically efficient personal assistant.
“Put me down this instant you laser-scrambled hulking oaf!” The closed door was no kind of barrier to outrage of that decibel level.
“Oh my Primus, you’re adorable!” That was one of Starscream’s personal guards, voice loud and excited and deviously gleeful.
“Call us names again.” The laconic voice belonged to the other half of the duo. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
The response was loud, violent, and unsurprisingly incomprehensible. Twister slammed through the door, still fuming indignantly and looking all manners of harassed and embarrassed, carefully polished plating mussed and datapads all but falling from his arms. Starscream took one look at his frazzled aide and the two grinning guards left standing in Twister’s wake, the both of them looking only slightly sheepish about being caught acting up by their Winglord, and Starscream could not stop himself, really.
“Lord Starscream!” Twister was all but wailing in dismayed betrayal as his pursuers waved at the Winglord in friendly greeting behind him. “Stop laughing at me!”
Starscream just cracked up harder.
(Word Count: 1,829)
=/=
I realise that it was a long time ago - especially when we're talking Internet Years, but there was some interest expressed in Twister. Who his trinemates were, where he ended up... and when I mentioned that he eventually washes up as Starscream's Secretary, well. People wanted to know how/why/when it happened.
Therefore: the above. Innit he just the cutest thing? XP
=/=
You guys remember how I mentioned the little sister who needed emergency surgury? Well she's running a fever right now and I need to monitor her for fluxuations in temperature. It's holding steady right now, and if it stays steady or goes down I can go to sleep in an hour or two. If it goes up? No sleep for me, and there may be a trip in to the hospital on the docket for tonight. FML.
=/=
HERE THERE BE DRAGONS!! (If you only click one egg, please click the brown one furthest to the left. It's an Abandoned Cave rescue and only has two days left to live!)
♥
♠
♥
♠
♥
♠
♥
♠
♥
♠