Starscream Chronicles

Cybertron, Vos, Golden Age
Hatchling Aged- 5 Years

Rain, torrents of it fell from the sky landing on the ledge of the small cavern. The tiny Seeker crouched and waited on the edge looking up then following a drop down until it hit the ground. He reached out and allowed another drop to fall on him then discovered it was cold and wet. He looked up again and watched as the collected water fell from the edge of his cavern entrance to the ledge below. Steam rose from the warm ground filling the air with a thin mist. He watched and wondered.

Then something caught his eye in a small puddle. He leaned in and looked down and then noticed a face looking back up at him. He stepped back, startled and confused, then reached down to touch the water. The reflection did the same. It took him a few minutes to realise that the person in the reflection was himself.

He reached up and touched his own face. Big red optics set into his dark face. He smiled for a moment, bright steel teeth glinted in the dim light. He relaxed his expression and then scowled. He observed how his face changed. He did this for a while until a new drop of water caused his reflection to ripple and distort. He stepped away then sighed as his tanks rumbled at him. He was hungry again. Regardless of the falling sky water, which appeared harmless, he would have to hunt.

He moved off to the back of his cave. There were a number of bits and pieces he had collected. Scrap metals, bits of plastic and foam. Large pieces of metal leaves he had pulled off trees that he used to fashion himself a comfortable place to sleep. A sort of rough hewn nest. Next to that was a large smoothed off stone which he used as a table or anvil. He fashioned a number of tools and weapons there. He even learned that if he rubbed his metal dagger on a bit of stone he could smooth it off until he had a keen cutting edge.

He also learned how to make a more effective slingshot and discovered the destabilised energon crystals that exploded upon impact. The handling of these crystals did prove somewhat problematic until he understood that he must carefully wrap each crystal in a soft bit of rag and pack it away so they did not jostle. His memory of his first day was quickly fading out of memory Although, he could recall the sword and had attempted to replicate something like it. The result of his attempts were useless.

His lack of knowledge in metallurgy was its downfall. Any of his attempts would warp or bend immediately upon use. Unlike a short knife or dagger, the longer metals of his attempted sword did not hold up for long. He did not understand the techniques for making swords by using forges. Folding, heating and then hammering them into shape and finally tempering the blade until it had both flexibility and strength. He simply had to made do with the short dagger like blades that blunted, bent or snapped after a few uses.

He chose his slingshot from the wall and selected two pouches filled with ammunition. He slung both over his shoulder and then tucked the slingshot into a loop. He then grabbed an small fuel tank, the stomach of one of his larger kills which he realised could be re-used to collect the fuel contents from smaller prey. This allowed him to collect and store more.

He tried eating the fruiting bodies of some of the local trees, he discovered that most were incompatible with his systems and these made him very ill. One of these plant materials was so toxic that it nearly killed him. He spent a week curled in his cavern writhing in agony until the toxins left his system. Somehow he managed to survive the poisoning, although it left him with little strength to do more than crawl to his cache and check out the reserve tank. It was fortunate for him that he had some reserve fuel otherwise weakness would have claimed him. Even if he wanted to, he lacked the strength he needed to hunt, it still took a few days to return to normal and be able to go out looking for prey. After that ordeal he understandably avoided anything that grew on trees or came from plants out of distrust.

Hunting was easy, he basically learned to kill the day he had come online, after witnessing a horrific murder and being urged to hunt by the kind stranger. He quickly learned that he would have to fight in order to survive. There were days he felt like curling up in his cavern and giving up yet somehow his infinite curiosity about the world outside him drew him to leave his home and explore. His will to survive also forced him to endure the hardships he faced.

He periodically pondered the words of the kind stranger, although he lacked the knowledge to comprehend all the words spoken, in time even the words of the stranger faded into the distant past. Hunting and protecting himself was his priority.

His hunting skills were improving day by day. He had learned to become stealthy on his feet, and used camouflage to hide his brilliant colours, smudging himself with soot, ash or dirt. As his experience in hunting grew he also devised a variety of traps to capture his prey while he did other things.

He would hide in the fringe of the forest and watch other Seekers as they went on with their day to day lives. He observed them as they interacted and tried to understand what they said when they spoke with each other.

He made his way through the rain toward the fringe of the forest at the edge of the city. Hunting had become scarce in the region and he felt that he was having to go further and further afield. He chose a tree with a number of low branches, these were easy to climb and he carefully picked his way up until he had a good view of the street below.

The rain appeared to keep people inside. What was usually a busy area had very few individuals. Most who were travelling hurried along trying to cover their heads with something to keep the water off themselves. He looked up at the sky then down at himself. The rain was washing his camouflage off, leaving tracks of clean and dirty areas. It also seemed to dissolve the soot, making it one with the liquid, creating a sort of thin paint. If it was not for the rain, he figured he could use it to his advantage. He hoped there would be some water left so he could experiment and see if he could mix the pigment into it and make a sort of body paint.

Once the area was clear, he leapt out of the tree. His tiny legs bent fully to absorb his impact with the ground. He had previously discovered he was well designed for jumping from great heights. He darted across the empty street and entered an ally between two tall buildings. He stayed close to the wall and crept along until he located bins of refuse. He lifted the lid and found it full of plastic sheets, foam ribbons and a number of lengths of nylon twine. He scooped around it looking for anything he could eat. Behind him was a loud annoyed sounding screech. He turned and was surprised to be face to face with a large rat-like creature that was nearly his size.

He flared his wings and hissed at the rat, and the creature opened its mouth to show a wide array of razor sharp teeth. This beast was hunting the tiny Seeker. Within a few moments the two were rolling around the bin locked in mortal combat. The small Seeker was hard pressed to keep the rat from biting at him with its narrow, well equipped mouth. His hands touched some of the twine and he realise he could likely use that to bind the rat.

The small flier flicked his wrist and the twine snapped up and he then tightly wound it around the rat's muzzle. Unable to bite, the rat changed its tactic and attempted to flee. Not wanting to let the rat go, the small Seeker took out his metal shard he used as a knife and drove it upward into the rat's chest. The rat uttered a muffled squeak and fell over limply.

Wasting no time, the small Seeker locked his mouth onto the wound and drank any of the liquid that oozed out of it. Ordinarily he would not consume line fluids, it was not as potent as what was contained within the internal tank and line fluid usually had contaminants. But he had spent a lot of energy making the kill, he needed a small boost in order to finish taking the storage tank.

He leaned against the bin for a few minutes, feeling the energy percolate through his system, his limbs tingled with renewed strength and his mind began to clear of starvation's fog. A few minutes later he felt a little revived and then gutted the carcass. He cut the tank out and dumped most of the contents into his storage tank and drank what remained. He left the carcass outside the bin and memorised the location. He would return for the material nearby and to see what other creatures the body would attract.

He moved on deeper into the ally searching for prey or anything that could be considered useful. Bits of wire he would wind up into a loop, sharp bits of metal he would use to create traps and the occasional coin. He would pick these up because they were usually shiny. He had also observed people exchanging them for useful things. He would have to observe the procedure more closely in order to learn how it was done. He had several back in his cavern.

He found a large bin and a heap of refuse. Within the heap he discovered a large coil of steel cable. He grabbed it and began to tug, but the cable was wedged under a box that was too heavy. He grabbed it in his fists and started to lean back, pulling with all his strength until it gave way. He flew back with a thunk against a large bronze door. Within a few moments the door opened and a large angry looking Cybertronian glared out.

This Cybertronian was one of the wingless types, he had tires on his arms and legs, large panels at his back. He scowled at the flailing Seeker hatchling for a moment before kicking out at him. The little Seeker screamed in pain, grabbed the coil then ran-limped back the way he came. As he fled he looked back over his shoulder to see if the larger being was following. Instead the Cybertronian re-piled his refuse then went back inside.

He whimpered slightly. His leg was hurting and he tucked himself between some large containers. Once he was sure he was secure, he placed his wire down and looked at his damaged leg. He had a small wound in his thigh, but the silver of nanites were filling it in. He knew it was small and would heal on its own. He cursed at himself for being careless, having not checked behind him for anything that might cause unwanted attention.

Much to his dismay his slingshot had broken its arm when he had landed on it. This rendered it useless to him. He kept it so he could remove parts to try to create a new one. The crystals were still intact but without the force of the slingshot, they would not be overly effective.

Outside of the stranger, most Cybertronians, Seekers included, were hostile toward him. Screaming obscenities such as, 'rat', 'worm', 'maggot' or 'unwanted hatchling trash'. He was not entirely sure what all these terms meant but he understood that they were not compliments. Because of this, he usually avoided populated areas outside of this rainy day.

He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them holding himself tightly. His tank gurgled angrily and he opened up his small storage tank and took a drink from it. He would have to ration it carefully. It seemed prey in this area was scarce but materials were abundant, at least for the moment. He would take what he could, but his priority was to hunt. He got to his feet and stifled a whimper. His leg throbbed angrily, but he had to force onward, he needed to, he could risk discovery, captivity or predation. None of those was an option.

He hurried back to the bin where he had left the carcass of the retro-rat and as he had hoped, there were others. He was not sure if this was a good idea considering his sore leg, but he needed his prey. A rat, raised its head and sniffed at the air. It could smell the static of recently spilled fluids of the tiny Seeker. A wounded creature was free game.

The rat clambered out, it screeched to the others and they followed. Before he knew it he was facing a large hoard of them. One or two he could handle, but seven was a different story. Each one was nearly his size. They were better equipped with razor sharp teeth and claws. His hands were blunt, and his sharpest teeth were tiny in comparison. The small Seeker dropped the things he had scavenged and took out his tiny scrap-knife. He flared his wings and hissed at the rats, carefully taking a step back. He glanced for a moment behind him. He could run back, however he knew the rats had a speed advantage. They had four legs, he only had two and his weight was balanced against him.

The rats screamed and lunged at him. The tiny Seeker slashed and flailed with his blade. He felt them sinking their teeth into anything they could. One had his left hand and forced him to drop his knife. The blade clattered to the ground. In a panic he could feel a well of energy building up inside him. He screeched at the predators and suddenly the energy discharged and the group of rats fell to the ground unmoving.

He stopped and looked at them startled. Then took a glance around. He was the only one standing. He picked up his dagger then placed a hand on one of the creatures. He could feel the faint thrum of their fuel pump pushing the fluids through their internal circulatory system. They were not dead, simply stunned. Realising he now had an advantage he used his blade to kill each of the rats. There was more fuel than he could put in his carry tank, so he resorted to removing each of their reserve tanks. He used the wire he had collected to link each of the tanks into a chain. For the moment, fuel was in abundance.

He did not want to waste time or risk losing his carefully collected supplies. He slung the tanks over his shoulder and scampered across the street then scaled the fence. Once more he was within the safety of known territory, his home grounds. He would have to move quickly, it seemed as if the storm was going to become stronger. He ran across the field toward the chasm and leapt down onto the ledge. He walked inside, and dropped his cables and wires then stashed the tanks along the rough stone wall.

The storm slowly passed over the city. Plasma bursts struck nearby trees causing them to explode outward. Rain pelted past his entrance so heavily that some of it ran inside the cave. Water seeped in through the ground and dripped along some of the stalactites that hung from the ceiling.

Terrified of the unfamiliar nature of the storm he crouched in the back of his cavern, holding his knees to his chin, quivering in fear. The sky outside had grown pitch black. Even the light from the city seemed darkened. The darkness was split by jagged bolts of energy or flashes of light so bright it nearly looked like day.

During a lull in the storm he felt sleepy, in part from being so tense with terror and in part of finally being refuelled. The young Seeker eventually fell into a peaceful sleep.

His nap was cut short by a thunderous boom that shook the cavern, a fork of energy travelled down the pipe in the wall, briefly illuminating the cave. He screeched, then leaped away from the brightness. The stench of ozone reached his olfactory systems. He froze, wings against the wall and he stood, all but holding his breath, optics bright with renewed terror. He remained this way for the rest of the night.

The storm slowly passed and a gentle rain continued to fall from the sky. He was exhausted from being kept awake by the raging storm. Slowly he relaxed and stepped away from the wall. He reached for a tank with trembling hands and drank heavily. He wanted the fuel to calm himself. After a while he made his way to the ledge. The ledge had been scoured clean by the torrential rain. A small pool of water had collected just inside near his work tables.

In the distance the clouds were thick and dark. It still flashed with brilliant light, but the threat for him had passed. He stood on the ledge for a moment and felt the water wash away the remaining soot, dirt and energon off him. With his wounds clean he could see the nanites building a secure layer, preventing more from spilling out. In time it would close up, a process he found interesting to observe.

He scooped some of the rain water into a dented piece of metal and took it inside. He opened up a small bag of ash and mixed the water and rain until he got a thick paste. He studied the paste on his fingers then looked at the wall. He had hunted, he had materials, and he could go a few days now. A well earned break. He walked over to the wall with the wet soot and used his fingers to decorate the surface, a picture of him fighting the rats.

It would be his earliest journal entry.