Starscream’s optics flickered toward the sound of Hashtag’s voice, her tone hesitant and trembling. She turned to face the younger bot, her expression curious yet guarded. Hashtag stood there, clutching her ever-present iPad like a lifeline. But this time, her usual eagerness was absent. Instead, her servos clung to the device as though it might fall apart if she loosened her grip. Her optics were wide, her frame trembling slightly, as if she had just witnessed something that drained her energon reserves entirely.
“You shouldn’t spend so much time on the internet,” Starscream said, her tone laced with mild reproach. “You never know what sort of things you might stumble upon to scare you like this.”
But Hashtag remained silent. Her mouth opened slightly, only to shut again as if words had failed her entirely. Starscream’s frown deepened. It wasn’t like Hashtag to be so tight-lipped. Something was seriously wrong. The younger bot’s optics darted up to meet Starscream’s gaze, then quickly back to the floor. After a tense pause, Hashtag finally lifted the iPad and turned it toward Starscream. The screen’s glow illuminated the younger bot’s trembling hands.
Starscream leaned closer, squinting to make sense of the screen. It was a video. Her optics narrowed further as the grainy footage played. The timestamp and angle suggested it was security footage—low resolution but unmistakably from within the confines of G.H.O.S.T Headquarters. Her frame stiffened as the scene came into focus.
The video showed an operating table surrounded by sterile equipment and ominous machinery. Figures in lab coats moved methodically around the table, and then she saw it—herself, lying motionless on that cold slab of metal. Her plating bristled as the memories surged forward, unbidden and vivid. She didn’t need to watch further; she already knew what came next.
The researchers had discovered her unique condition, her curse. Someone had tipped them off about her immortality, though whoever provided the information had been ignorant of Cybertronian biology. They had avoided her T-cog and spark, perhaps out of fear of destroying her regenerative ability. Instead, they had focused their grotesque curiosity elsewhere.
She vividly remembered the procedures, the slicing of her limbs, the agonizing loss of energon that would have spelled death for any other Cybertronian. But not for her. Hours later, her body would regenerate—whole, but not without the searing memory of pain. Immortal, yes, but far from invulnerable. She felt everything. Every cut. Every invasive probe. Every attempt to unravel the mystery of her existence.
Starscream’s optics darkened as she processed what Hashtag had just seen. She snatched the iPad from her apprentice’s hands with a sharpness that made Hashtag flinch. “Where did you get this?” she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.
Hashtag stammered, holding up her hands defensively. “I didn’t hack into G.H.O.S.T! I swear!” she blurted out, her voice high-pitched with panic. “It’s a leaked video. It’s all over the internet. Everyone can see what G.H.O.S.T has been doing. Your video isn’t the only one. There are others.”
Starscream’s glare softened slightly as she processed Hashtag’s words. The young bot was telling the truth. But that left one critical question: who had leaked the footage? Whoever they were, they had covered their tracks well enough to elude even Hashtag, a skilled data miner in her own right. That realization sent a ripple of unease through Starscream. Whoever was behind this leak had resources and skill.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a muffled sound. She turned to see Hashtag trembling, her frame hunched as though trying to make herself smaller. Then, without warning, the younger bot burst into tears. The sound was heart-wrenching, raw and unrestrained.
Starscream froze, her wings twitching awkwardly. She wasn’t accustomed to dealing with emotions—least of all someone else’s. But seeing Hashtag so distraught, a pit of guilt and protectiveness opened within her. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward and gently pulling the younger bot into her arms. Hashtag clung to her, sobbing into her chest plate.
“It’s okay,” Starscream murmured, her voice softer than usual. She ran a servo gently along Hashtag’s back, an awkward but genuine attempt to comfort her. “You shouldn’t have had to see that.”
Hashtag’s words came in choked bursts. “I… I didn’t know they could do something like that to you. I thought they were supposed to be the good guys.” She sniffled, her optics shimmering with a mixture of sadness and anger. “How could they…? Why would they?”
Starscream sighed, her optics darkening. “The ‘good guys’ and the ‘bad guys’ are often a matter of perspective,” she said bitterly. “To them, we are tools—weapons to be studied, controlled, or destroyed when no longer useful. It doesn’t matter what we feel or how we suffer.”
Hashtag’s sobs quieted slightly, but her grip on Starscream didn’t loosen. Starscream tightened her embrace, her sharp edges softening in the presence of her apprentice’s vulnerability.
“You’re safe now,” Starscream said, her voice firm but reassuring. “Whatever G.H.O.S.T has done, they can’t hurt us here. And whoever leaked this… we’ll find them. We’ll make sure they understand the consequences of meddling in our lives.”
Hashtag pulled back slightly, her optics still watery but filled with determination. “You’re not alone in this,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Whatever happens, I’ll help you. I promise.”
Starscream’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. Despite everything, Hashtag’s resilience and loyalty were a spark of light in the shadows of her past. She rested a servo on Hashtag’s shoulder and nodded. “We’ll face this together.”
After the whole spectacle with Hashtag and the entire Malto family swarming her with questions of concern—not to mention Bumblebee’s persistent pestering about her well-being—Starscream finally found a moment to herself. The chaos had been suffocating, their voices blending into a cacophony that only amplified her irritation. She had barely managed to contain her sharp tongue, though her patience had been worn dangerously thin.
Now, in the solitude of the evening, she allowed herself the clarity to reflect. Amid the uproar, her sharp mind had pieced together the puzzle. The culprit behind the leaked videos had been right in front of her the whole time, and she chastised herself for not realizing it sooner.
Who else could it be but the one who escaped with me?
With that realization, Starscream set out, her purpose clear. She didn’t know the exact location of her target, but she had a general idea of where they might be. The outskirts of the city were dotted with abandoned structures, remnants of a bygone industrial era. It was the perfect place for someone like her to hide.
Starscream’s sharp optics scanned her surroundings as she approached one such building—a decrepit warehouse whose broken windows and rusted exterior spoke of years of neglect. She leaned against the cold metal of its walls, arms crossed, waiting. Patience wasn’t her strong suit, but she knew it wouldn’t take long.
Sure enough, the familiar sound of footsteps reached her audials. They were deliberate and even, carrying the mechanical rhythm she had come to associate with her quarry. As the figure came into view, Starscream’s optics narrowed. She didn’t need to call out to confirm her suspicion, but she did anyway, her voice sharp and cutting through the still air.
“Soundwave.”
At the sound of her name, the other bot halted and turned. The red visor and mouth shield that covered Soundwave’s face made her expression unreadable, her emotions a mystery.
“Hello, Starscream,” Soundwave replied, her voice as monotone and detached as ever. It was a tone that grated against Starscream’s nerves, though she refused to let it show.
The two stood there, locked in a silent standoff. Starscream’s wings twitched with barely concealed tension, while Soundwave’s stillness was unnerving. Minutes passed, heavy with unspoken words, until—to Starscream’s surprise—Soundwave broke the silence first.
“Are you mad at me for spreading those videos?” Soundwave’s question was calm, almost casual, as if the act of exposing G.H.O.S.T’s dark secrets was a trivial matter.
Starscream didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the empty expanse of the abandoned lot before them. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and measured. “What do you want, Soundwave?”
Soundwave tilted her head slightly, the motion almost mocking. “I’ve already told you,” she said. “I want revenge against Megatron.” Her visor seemed to gleam slightly, and for a brief moment, Starscream could have sworn she saw a smirk beneath that ever-present mask. “Why?” Soundwave added, her tone laced with subtle derision. “Scared I’ll do a better job than you?”
Starscream sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of her past failures had momentarily pressed down on her. Pushing herself off the wall, she took slow, deliberate steps toward Soundwave. Her movements were calm, but there was an edge to her posture that spoke of restrained energy.
“I don’t care what you do, Soundwave,” she said, her tone dismissive.
She walked past Soundwave, the tension between them palpable. But after a few paces, Starscream stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Her crimson optics locked onto Soundwave’s visor, and a faint, sardonic smile played across her lips.
“But you know what happens if you involve me, don’t you?” Her voice was soft but carried a sharp warning, like a blade hidden beneath velvet. Without waiting for a response, she turned away and resumed her stride, her wings flicking slightly as she disappeared into the shadows.
Soundwave stood there, unmoving, as the echoes of Starscream’s footsteps faded. For a moment, the stillness returned, but the air seemed charged with unspoken promises and veiled threats. And then, as if nothing had happened, Soundwave turned and walked in the opposite direction, her figure disappearing into the night.