Drum Roll, Please

Chapter 17: Starscream

Sometimes, the world hurts you. When you've grown up privileged and happy, surrounded by those who respect and admire you, it's hard to learn how to cope with a sudden onset of pain. Starscream understood that more than anyone.

Living as the prince of Vos, the little seeker with promising talent and a quick-witted processor, Starscream had never known troubles like those of war. Of course, no matter where you are in life, you are bound to feel pain, but in perspective, that pain can be bigger or smaller regardless of the cause.

He worried about balls, about grades, about the sleekness of his paint, the color of his crown—little things that had once meant the world.

But everything was different once the war began. It was a blur of confusion. Everything that once mattered was gone. His speed and wit wasn't meant to charm mecha anymore, now it was meant to kill them.

And he did. Starscream was tossed through various commanders, none of which respected his rank or his style. They just wanted him to tear his sharpened servos through the sparks of their enemies. Knowing no other way to survive, Starscream obeyed.

He killed. He lied. He manipulated. He betrayed.

He coped with this hard new reality by creating a goal. Starscream was surrounded by Decepticon propaganda and the chants that cursed the wealthy for taking their freedom. Even though some of those curses were directed at his former kingdom, Starscream internalized the ideas.

He wanted freedom. The only way to get that was to be in charge. So he did what the war had taught him to do. He killed. He lied. He manipulated. He betrayed. That's what he did best now. He rose through the ranks of the Decepticon military until he met his match.

Megatron.

The warlord honesty seemed dumb at first, but no matter how hard he tried, Starscream could never overpower him in combat or intelligence. It was both infuriating and inspiring.

Now Starscream was sitting alone in his berthroom, scratches in the paint of his helm, while his processor was scrambled with a flurry of thoughts and emotions. He realized that perhaps while trying to escape the subjugation of hostile commanders and earn their respect, he forgot who he was.

He wasn't a killer, a liar, a manipulator, or a traitor. He was a prince. A shallow, niave little seeker who swayed the courts with his silver glossa.

He just wanted people to love him.

He went too far to get that.

After millennia of war, he only realized that now. Why? Well, perhaps on a subconscious level, he had always known what he strived most for and therefore he also knew what he was most afraid of losing.

Starscream lost it once already, when he was a neutral and a traitor to the Decepticons. He had been alone. Nobody wanted him and he certainly could not survive, mentally, on his own. He came back bearing presents; the keys to the Omega Lock, and he did not deviate from loyalty this time.

And yet—

"Test it again."

The human gasped, her little eyes widening in horror and fear. She took a step back, looking between the three high-ranking soldiers rapidly.

"On Starscream."

"What!?" Starscream's optics widened dramatically. "But my Lord, I–"

He cut himself off with a cry, servos grasping his helm in agony. Starscream clawed at himself, scratching deep lines into his armour and drawing small drips of energon from the areas with exposed protoform.