When We Seared The Sky

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen
Deserter

In the darkness of the warehouse base, all was quiet.

It was as if all life had simply vanished; no breath disturbed the silence of the communications room. Yet out of the shadows, a dark silhouette stalked through the entrance as quietly as possible, manoeuvring its giant wings around the doorframe so as not to create a disturbance; it scanned the room warily, its burning crimson eyes acting as virtually the only lights in the darkness.

A shattered skylight in the roof allowed a solitary ray of pale moonlight to creep into the room, and Starscream eyed it apprehensively, following the line of light with his eyes. It was only then that he realised that he was not, as he had assumed, alone in the room.

The medic was parked in vehicular mode a little way away from the door of the medical bay.

Slag it! he thought furiously, his lengthy fingers curling into a fist that could have crushed pure iron to dust.

Running a scan on the Hummer, he found that he had fallen into a deep, deep stasis – probably due to overwork. Much as he disliked the Autobots, the medical officer included, he had noticed that Ratchet was working for most of the day and night; he was always in the medical bay, repairing one thing or another or taking care of whomsoever might be in there. He felt a strange, reluctant kind of admiration of it for the briefest instant – self-sacrifice in battle was a fool’s game, but he supposed that there was some courage in it.

Courage.

Megatron had always told him what a coward he was, jeering at his occasional assassination attempts on him and frequently reminding him who had leadership over the Decepticons. He had been forever reminded of his position as second-in-command, and Megatron had delighted in informing him – on an all-too-regular basis – that he would never, ever be the Decepticon leader.

Now was his chance to prove him wrong. Sideways was offering him a chance of glory – a chance to overthrow Thrust, who was far weaker than Megatron, and claim the throne for himself at last. What a triumph it would be! Millennia of waiting for this moment and now, on this wretched organic heap of a planet, it had come.

So why did he feel… guilty?

He shook his head angrily, his expression hardening into a look of set determination. Nothing could stop him now. He wasdestined for leadership… this was his purpose, his very reason for existence…

Moving as swiftly and soundlessly as a mech of his bulk could, he stole towards the large, metallic door of the medical wing with the look of a predator stalking its prey through the undergrowth. His claret cores were ablaze with anticipation as he reached out a large hand and grasped the rusty bolt, sliding it across and praying that it would not make a sound.

Screeek.

Starscream froze, his optics flicking to the Hummer that he was now only a few feet away from.

To his shock, he spied Mikaela Banes in Ratchet’s cab – and she was the one that reacted to the sound. For the briefest, horrifying instant, her eyes fluttered and she frowned in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her that he heard quite clearly through the open window. And if he had heard her, then she had certainly heard him.

Meaning that Ratchet, being a Cybertronian with far more efficient auditory sensors, must surely awaken at any moment.

But, bizarrely and wonderfully enough, it appeared that luck – for a change, he thought with a self-satisfied smirk – was on his side.