Chapter Text
Following the defeat of Mandroid and the shattering of the Emberstone, Nightshade found themselves tinkering in their lab more often than not. While they still maintained a tentative peace with the Deceptions, its longevity was definitely uncertain, especially with the loose Emberstone shards just waiting to be part of some villainous plan. Nightshade refused to wait for the worst case scenario of another bad guy taking control of the Emberstone’s power – they’d find a solution before it could become a problem.
Cybertronian teleportation technology was of particular interest to Nightshade, as if it could be made into a compact and portable device, it would make the search and retrieval of the Embershards much more efficient. They spent hours studying the battle videos of Skywarp frame by frame to understand her teleporting ability, composed formulas and hypotheses with Wheeljack, and spent many long nights refining the designs for a portable space bridge.
After much work, Nightshade had come up with a final design and had begun to construct it. They (as usual) were the only occupant in their lab, with the rest of their siblings having gone back to their beds to do… whatever it was they did during the night. Without a need to sleep like Robby or Mo, Nightshade had previously caught their Terran siblings doing the strangest activities and just got used to ignoring their shenanigans while they worked. Thankfully, the dugout was quiet that night, allowing Nightshade to fully concentrate as their claws fiddled with the tiny contraption.
It was in the midst of this intense focus that Twitch and Thrash crashed into the doors of the lab, startling Nightshade enough to fling their project into the air and causing it to smash into the ground not too far from where they stood. Two small apologies squeaked out from behind the door, but despite the frustration that initially rose within them, Nightshade could only sigh in mild disappointment. At least most parts had been screwed on, so it was still in one piece, albeit with a large dent from where it had hit the floor. Crouching down towards their project, Nightshade began to grab it with an outstretched servo, before the object began to make a humming noise, quickly rising in volume and intensity.
Nightshade reflexively recoiled their servo when they made contact with the metal surface, which was now scalding hot. Forcing their optics to zoom in as much as they could (Wheeljack had taught them not to stick one’s entire helm into something that might explode), they frowned, the metrics on their HUD fluctuating wildly. This was probably the moment where they should flee or at least move back, Nightshade realised, but it was a realisation made too late.
As they stepped away from the frenzying device, a blue-green explosion took over their vision.
Starscream hated the Harbinger. It was a dingy, ugly wreck that did nothing but exacerbate his currently depressing situation, but Starscream would cling onto whatever advantage he had now that he had left the Decepticons. Hidden from both the Autobots and Decepticons, he could (somewhat) relax at the idea that this was one of the few places on this miserable mud ball where he was safe.
That concept of safety was quickly compromised as a loud crash sound came from one of the central rooms in the ship. Jolting upright in his “lab” – a tiny room with only the barest of functional equipment – Starscream immediately ran over to the origin of the noise. It didn’t seem to be coming from the entrance, nor did it sound like an explosion or gunfire. As he hastily made his way there, his processor was reeling on what possibly could have occurred. Maybe another part of the ship fell off again?
All of the many hypothetical reasons Starscream had concocted on the way immediately deleted themselves from his processor (along with the rest of his thoughts) when he turned the corridor to find… a Cybertronian?
They certainly weren’t a bot he recognised. Their plating was angular, but not sharp nor intimidating enough for most Deceptions’ tastes, and it was a darker hue, not a colour particularly popular with Autobots either. Collapsed face-down onto the ground, Starscream couldn’t get a good look at their faceplate unless he moved them. He couldn’t spot an insignia either – but those that didn’t take up a side died long ago, so it was bound to be somewhere he couldn't see.
With a closer look, Starscream noted the softness of their plating, like one of a sparkling. It was free of scarring or obvious weld marks or any substantial injuries at all. From what little Starscream knew about early Cybertronian development, it looked like this was their first ever alt mode, one which he couldn’t discern from any kibble at all, with no wings or wheels in sight.
But there hadn’t been any new Cybertronians since the Allspark had been ejected into space. It was impossible. Even if Shockwave had created some horrific abomination, there was no way it could’ve reached Earth from his lab on Cybertron! Starscream refused to believe his optics, staring at the offending Cybertronian in disgust. Perhaps they were some creation of MECH’s, but during his brief and regrettable alliance with them, he had never seen any project resembling the being who was before him.
After a long examination of the bot from a safe distance, Starscream concluded they were not waking up from recharge anytime soon, and he planted himself on the opposite end of the room. Grabbing a nearby datapad, he watched over the sleeping bot as he planned his next search for energon.
Nightshade jolted awake with a painful ache in their helm and a ringing in their audials. The feeling was similar to the one that they had felt when Mandroid had shut down every Cybertronian on Earth – and the memory was enough to get their thoughts spinning. Was Mandroid back somehow? Was there some other entity with a similar power? Where was their family?
Their panic grew as they opened their optics to an unfamiliar location: dark, purple, and certainly not their lab in the dugout. Nightshade pinged their GPS, but it failed to return any meaningful coordinates. Pinging their comms had a similar error. They pushed themselves up slowly by the servos, and quickly swiveled around to see a tall, grey bot watching them carefully.
Nightshade automatically raised their fists up to their chassis, their plating flared in warning as they glared at the stranger. The bot smirked back, then sauntered closer to them with unwavering confidence, though he didn't break contact with their optics even once. The second he stood still, a missile attached to an arm was pointed directly at their face.
“Foolish youngling,” he spat out, “don’t you know who I am?”
Nightshade’s optics widened. “No. Why should I? Who are you?” They asked, causing one of the bot’s digits to twitch downwards. His voice sounded scarily similar to–
“I am Commander Starscream! If you are of Cybertronian origin, you ought to recognise my name.” He jabbed his raised arm at them to punctuate his words.
“Starscream?!” Nightshade blurted out in surprise. “But… You’re all grey! Aren’t you red and blue?” He looked entirely different to when they last saw Starscream – a sleek body with sharp plating and even sharper claws. Even the missile being pointed at them was different, lacking the smiling faces usually painted on them. Why would Starscream threaten them?
Now it was the other’s turn to be surprised. “I’ve worn these colours for centuries! How could a protoform like you know what I used to look like?!” The last sentence ended on a screeching tone, shrill enough to make Nightshade wince, their audials flicking back.
“Er… I must have mixed you up with someone else,” Nightshade backpedalled. It would be a bad idea to make this armed bot angry! Although this Starscream seemed significantly more irate than the one Nightshade knew, resembling the character from the comic books that Robby read more than real life. “Where am I?”
“On my ship,” Starscream replied, but the lack of an engine thrumming under their pedes indicated that it was stationary somewhere. “Currently situated on the gross organic planet called Earth.” He rolled his optics and grumbled something under his breath about fleshy lifeforms.
“Am I not in Witwicky any more?” Nightshade muttered to themself aloud, however, the town’s name didn’t bring out any reaction from Starscream. “What state am I in?” they asked directly.
“State?” Starscream let out an amused huff. “I don’t really bother to keep up with what the humans call their territories… Some desert somewhere: Nevada, Arizona– something like that.”
Nightshade's optics widened. The desert? How had they travelled across the entire country? It must’ve been the experimental device when it fell. It was still without power at that point, but could the impact have reached the Embershards stored under the floor of their base? Nightshade began to ruminate on the possibilities, much to the annoyance of Starscream.
“Are you listening?” he grumbled. Oh, he must've still been talking whilst Nightshade was having a crisis. Starscream rolled his optics, but continued to speak, “As I was saying, how did you get into my ship?”
“I don't–” Nightshade began, before spotting a familiar object not too far away, “Ah! There it is!” They exclaimed, though lowered their voice as they quickly remembered the bot still pointing a weapon at them. “My device over there must have malfunctioned.”
Starscream gave a look that bordered on an eye roll, before lowering his arm slightly and gesturing at the device.
Nightshade took that as a cue to move, slowly walking towards the teleportation device and grabbing it. “It seems I will need to improve this prototype a little more…”
Starscream watched carefully, stiffening as Nightshade brought the device towards him. “Have the Autobots sent you here?!” he screeched, “I'm an independent bot now! I'm not with the Decepticons any more!”
Nightshade’s optics widened. “No, I'm not an Autobot, I'm a Terran,” they said slowly, “But, you're not a Decepticon any more?”
“They betrayed me,” Starscream said darkly, “Along with those repulsive humans.”
“Mandroid?”
“MECH! Silas! That fragger…”
Nightshade tilted their helm in response. Most anti-Cybertronian groups were small and not particularly influential, with GHOST having quashed a majority of the more dangerous ones early on in the post-war alliance. Starscream’s faceplate twisted in anger, his claws lingering over his midsection for a brief moment. The silence was short-lived as he seemed to register the initial half of Nightshade’s words.
“What is a… Terran?”
Nightshade gawked at the question. If this was the Starscream they knew, then he would already know the answer. Then again, this ‘Starscream’ didn't seem to recognise Nightshade at all, preferring to threaten them instead. It led to a few possibilities and not many of them left Nightshade at ease. Had their device not only sent them across the country, but also another dimension? Starscream was still looking at them expectedly, and… was that a hint of concern in his optics?
Nightshade wrung their servos nervously as they spoke, “Simply put, a Terran is a Cybertronian born on Earth, created by the Emberstone.”
Starscream didn't immediately give a verbal reply, only hummed as he brought a clawed digit to his chin. “Well, such a phenomenon is certainly news to me. Where is this ‘Emberstone’?”
“It's uh- broken. Shattered.” Starscream's wings sunk a little, a disappointed frown forming on his face. Nightshade became infinitely more jittery at the sight, the unshakable feeling that something wasn't quite right with this Starscream settling in their tanks. They cleared their vocaliser. “Um, sorry for intruding, Starscream, but I think I will make my exit now–” Nightshade said, clutching the device closer to their body and leaning towards any direction that wasn't facing him.
“Wait!” Starscream interrupted, surprising them both, though the seeker recovered quickly. “It seems you have some scientific expertise. I could use your, uh– assistance…” He paused, gesturing to Nightshade with a servo.
“...Nightshade,” they answered, tentatively putting the device in their subspace where it would be safe before continuing. “What do you need help with?”
“You see, Nightshade, I have been grievously wounded by that dastardly human organisation. As an independent bot, it is– difficult to get medical assistance,” he explained, his grin wide as he waved his servo across his body like it explained everything. Nightshade's optics narrowed. They had helped (former) Decepticons before, but despite that, Thrash and Mo’s warning about Swindle came to mind. Right now, Starscream was being exceptionally friendly towards them (for a Deception, anyways) to a, dare they say, desperate degree, a huge contrast to a few minutes prior.
“What did they do to you?”
“They removed my T-cog!” He shrieked in reply, making Nightshade stumble backwards at the volume. Starscream didn't appear to notice, too busy clenching and unclenching his fists. “After everything I did for them!”
Nightshade could only wince in sympathy. Removal of a T-cog? That was a complex surgery even for Cybertronians to execute, let alone a group of rogue humans. They feared whatever kind of unconventional, unsafe procedure that Starscream had to endure – the thought was enough to make them shiver. “I'm sorry, Starscream, but I'm not a medic.”
Starscream didn't look surprised at that, only raising one optic ridge. “Well, I can tell that just by looking at you. You're probably not even a vorn old!”
Nightshade decided not to mention that they were under one Earth year old.
“Anyways,” Starscream continued, “if you could help me gather some bits and pieces here and there, and help me build some equipment, then I might be able to fix myself! Plus, I can help fix that” – he waved a claw in their direction – “device of yours.”
“I guess…” Nightshade replied, silently wishing they could just bash the device again and be back in the dugout. Until they had found out what was going on in this possible alternate dimension, it was best they stayed put for now. “Alright, Starscream. I'll help you.”
Starscream clapped his servos together in delight. “Wonderful! Why don't we start right away!”
Starscream led Nightshade through the halls of the ship – the Harbinger – occasionally stopping to point out a room of significance or complain about the state of the ship. It was during this tour that Starscream explained that they were standing in one half of the ship, with the other half being some distance away after it had crash-landed onto Earth.
They had also learnt that the war between Decepticons and Autobots was still ongoing, and was especially fierce on Earth now that Cybertron was effectively dead. It was eerily similar to what Alex had told them about Cybertronian history. The Allspark was missing, numbers on both sides were low and morale was even lower.
“Why did you leave the Decepticons?” They had asked while walking with Starscream down a poorly-lit corridor.
He flared his plating as he spat out a name: “Megatron.”
“What did… Megatron do?”
Starscream did not hesitate to badmouth the Decepticon leader the moment Nightshade asked their question. “Don't get me started on Megatron! He thinks that rotten insect is more valuable to the cause than me ! Since he's returned to Earth, everything has gotten worse.”
“How so?”
Starscream rolled his optics and fluttered his wings in annoyance. “Everything! He's a power-hungry maniac addicted to that accursed Dark Energon!” His vents roared loudly as he yelled, still audible even after he finished shouting.
“I-I see,” Nightshade replied. They had never really thought much about how Megatron acted before the end of the war, beyond being aware he had done some bad things, but his friendliness to the Terrans and Dorothy especially made it easy to forget.
From what they had heard from Hashtag, Starscream had it the worst of all Decepticons. Looking at the scars that marred his plating, they didn't want to think about which wounds were inflicted by the Autobots or by Megatron. They didn't want to think about what being addicted to that ‘Dark Energon’ substance did to one’s processor, either. Whatever was the case could explain Starscream's agitation easily.
The seeker seemed content to continue grumbling to Nightshade, not caring or unaware that they were not fully paying attention. “And now, I'm living on this decrepit ship scrounging on energon scraps because that idiot refused to acknowledge my true worth!” He finished his complaint with a loud ex-vent.
Nightshade slowed their walking pace to a stop, forcing Starscream to stop beside them, confusion on his faceplate.
“What?” He spat out. He crossed his arms expectantly.
“I'm sorry that happened to you,” Nightshade said carefully, the memories of what Hashtag had told them now at the front of their processor.
“What…?” Starscream whispered, all the venom that was in his voice completely slipping away. Nightshade took the opportunity of his shock to continue.
“Now, I don't know what happened exactly, but it seems to me that you were treated very unfairly.” Starscream looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his optics again. “Now you are a neutral bot, why not ask the Autobots for help? You are no longer their enemy, right?”
He blinked at them for a few moments, and when realising that Nightshade was being entirely serious, he laughed. A kind of manic, loud laughter that had their plating bristling and finials flickering downwards. “As if! The Prime may act like a big sap, but the rest of his team would never help me! Especially after–” he suddenly stopped himself upon looking at Nightshade's curious expression, turning his helm away so they couldn't meet optics.
“Oh,” was all they could come up with in response.
“Whoever hid you from the war hid you well. War isn't as simple as you might think, sparkling.” Starscream's voice was subdued and quiet.
He was right though. As much as Nightshade could've read and learnt from their parents or other bots, they'd never truly understand what it was like during the war. And, with the one in this world still ongoing, it was even more complex.
Voice still somewhat soft, Starscream spoke again. “Follow me. My lab is just around this corner.”
Starscream's little apprentice was proving themselves to be very useful in the short time he had seen them at work. He hadn't done this much science since before he joined the Decepticons, something which he didn't realise how much he sorely missed until now. Nightshade was inquisitive and quick to adapt, like any other sparkling their age – they really were that young, which sent Starscream's processor reeling – able to understand his instructions and work with the limited technology they had.
“So, this cable goes here?”
“Yes, it connects to the display, see?” Starscream wasn't sure why he was explaining the inner mechanisms of the scanner they were repairing, finding himself doing so before he could preemptively stop it. He could've easily just barked out instructions with no context like he'd do with a Vehicon back on the Nemesis, but there was something about the prodding yet (somehow) not irritating questions that invoked his responses.
Nightshade plugged in the cable and the scanner’s screen lit up a bright blue. A smile spread across their faceplate as they turned to Starscream once more. “It worked!”
Of course it worked, I just told you what it does. Starscream nodded simply, not really able to reciprocate their eagerness. “That was just the first step. Now–”
“What is this device’s function?” Nightshade interrupted. Starscream had to stop himself from digging his claws into the desk. How dare this youngling interrupt him! Unfortunately, said youngling was likely the only help he was going to get, and he knew if he acted out of line, the flighty thing would disappear out of his claws. He needed to be nice, even if they did something annoying.
“It's a scanner. Now, lift the latch–”
“What does it scan?” Starscream was going to burst an energon line if this continued. Obviously, Nightshade had developed a fascination with this particular object in comparison to the others they'd repaired already, their optics sparkling with pure curiosity.
Starscream rolled his optics. “Life signatures, energon, diagnostic stuff, you know.”
Clearly Nightshade did not know. “Wow…” They murmured, “I've never made anything like that before.” Had this bot even been in contact with any Cybertronians before Starscream? Their lack of familiarity with the most basic of their species' inventions concerned him. Only because it might hamper their repair efforts.
“Well, after this you'll be able to. Now, the latch– ” Starscream finally managed to successfully finish explaining his next instruction and as Nightshade tinkered with the scanner’s display, he worked on the motherboard. Programming the thing was laughably easy (he could do it in his recharge if he wanted to) so he took the chance to take a few discreet looks at Nightshade while they were focused.
They held the device carefully, handling each wire or latch between their pinched claws, like if they held it any tighter the material would snap. Cybertronian materials would require much more force to break, especially one that was part of such a robust, everyday device such as a scanner. It was identical to how Starscream handled Earth materials, which were weak and puny just like their dominant species. Another point for the ‘never met a Cybertronian’ theory.
It was a while longer before Starscream put all of the scanner's pieces together and properly powered it on for the first time. He took his time assembling it, not wanting to make a single mistake on what could become a crucial item, though the overall time taken was reduced thanks to having a helping servo in Nightshade. He internally applauded his handiwork as he rotated the scanner in his palm.
Nightshade peered over his arm, staring at the display for quite a while without uttering a word. Starscream, mildly disturbed by the silence after what felt like eons of questions being thrown at him, raised an optic ridge when their optics met.
“...What does it say?”
Starscream balked, mouth agape for a few seconds. “You– You can't read Neocybex?” Nightshade shook their helm. “Primus… What kind of bot has been raising you,” he grumbled. Even the Autobots would put in the effort to teach a sparkling how to read.
Nightshade's helm sunk, their finials twitching downwards. At the sight, Starscream felt an emotion he wasn't used to feeling: guilt. He had to remind himself that he was merely using Nightshade for assistance with repairing the Harbinger's equipment and that he wasn't responsible for this child’s care. Still…
“If you’ll be of any use to me beyond soldering basic wires together, then you'll need to learn it,” he said, in the flattest and most uncaring voice he could muster. Nightshade looked at him like Starscream had hung the stars in the sky, optics wide and flattened finials now completely upright.
“You would teach me? Oh, thank you!” They leaned forward, causing Starscream's battle protocols to suddenly online and he jumped back. While they didn't show much on their faceplate, Nightshade's field flared briefly with sadness, one which they didn't seem to rein in or manipulate at all.
“Ahem,” Starscream cleared his vocaliser, then sat back down on the stool he was sitting on. “I can, but you would have to keep helping me in that case,” he offered. Nightshade nodded eagerly. Did their previous fears evaporate at the prospect of learning something entirely new? That was handy to know.
“When can I start?” They asked very, very eagerly.
“Why, right now!” Starscream replied with a cunning grin, before he delved into a deep explanation of each of the little glyphs on the scanner's screen.
They had spent a few hours cooped up in the little lab, as Starscream detailed the Cybertronian writing system. It was wonderfully complex with infinite depth – yet simultaneously it was easy to read and remember all of the grammar rules. Nightshade couldn't help but be disappointed that Bumblebee or the other Cybertronians had never taught it to them. It had occasionally appeared on Teletraan-1’s displays, but no bot in the former GHOST headquarters ever explained what any of the sentences meant.
“Here,” Starscream had said, handing a small but considerably chunky datapad. “Use this to practice your glyphs.”
Nightshade took the datapad enthusiastically, detaching the stylus clipped onto its side and beginning to write. They weren't too familiar with writing using such devices (they found the tactile nature of whiteboards and markers much easier to work with) but Nightshade was going to try their best. A drawing program was already open on the datapad, so they got to work copying the glyphs displayed above.
Their linework was very wobbly at first as they adjusted their grip on the stylus. After clumsily writing down a few glyphs, Nightshade raised their helm to take a peek at what Starscream was up to. He was tapping away at a console a few metres away, but as if he was able to sense their optics on him, he raised his claws from the controls to turn to Nightshade a few moments later.
“What?”
Nightshade suddenly felt shy. “Um, well, if you're not busy, could you review my work?”
Starscream slipped away from the console and peered over their shoulder. He let out a small hum and Nightshade could see in their peripheral vision that he was frowning at the datapad. He snatched the stylus from their servo, shifted to the right of Nightshade, then annotated Nightshade's writing with swift penstrokes.
“You need to reduce the distance between these lines here. These lines should be straighter. This line should be angled in this direction…”
Starscream continued his critique for a short while, bluntly narrating the annotations as he scribbled them down. Eventually, he straightened up and sauntered back towards the console without another word. Nightshade felt compelled to say something as the silence grew between them.
“Thank you, Starscream! Your feedback is very helpful!” Nightshade smiled, now equipped with more knowledge to tackle the glyphs once more. They squinted their optics as they gripped the stylus tightly, focused entirely on making sure every line was evenly spaced and at the right angle.
Whilst they were practicing away on the datapad, Nightshade wasn't able to see the tiny smirk on Starscream's faceplate as he continued his work.
Eventually, Starscream's wings began to droop along with his optics as he stared at the console screen. The brightness of it was starting to irritate him, and it was perhaps a sign he should maybe grab some energon, or better yet, have a stasis nap. He subtly looked over his shoulder to see Nightshade was still scrawling on the datapad, even after the many hours he had been programming on the console, and they didn't look like they were stopping anytime soon.
Not particularly wanting to leave a new, unfamiliar bot out of his sight, he cleared his vocaliser loudly, causing Nightshade to snap their helm up towards the sound.
“Since you are now my new… lab assistant, I will share with you a portion of the energon I have,” he declared. It was very unlikely that they'd survive alone as they were (and energon was hard enough to find even with his experience) so Starscream was really doing them a huge favour.
Therefore it came as a great surprise to him when Nightshade simply shook their helm. “I'm quite alright at the moment,” they replied, “I'm not really uh- hungry.”
Whatever rock this bot had lived under clearly messed with their pure survival skills. Any bot, Autobot or Decepticon, would've jumped at the chance for free energon. Starscream's faceplate twitched at the very idea of denying the opportunity. He quickly regained his composure, though. “Well, I am. Come with me.”
Nightshade placed down the datapad, standing up from their seat and stretching out their arms above their helm. “I could do with the break, I suppose.” Starscream had the feeling that if he hadn't spoken up, they would have continued working endlessly.
He walked out of the lab, making sure Nightshade was following behind as he made his way to his storage room. It wasn't a proper energon storage like the ones back on the Nemesis – like everything in his new home, it was another shoddy, cramped room that he had to repurpose.
Despite how tired he was of living on the Harbinger already after such a short time, he would never go back. Even if he tried to, he'd just end up underneath Megatron's fist again, and that was if he was deemed worthy enough to live. It was something he reminded himself of over and over as he unlocked the door to the storage and grabbed a half-empty cube.
Starscream looked over at Nightshade, who had been silent the entire journey and was standing just outside the storage room. Still, the sight of energon was usually enough to get anyone to give in and take some, but they looked at the cube curiously, rather than hungrily.
“It's blue?” Was all they asked as they continued staring.
Starscream glared back. “Energon has always been blue.” He was starting to suspect this bot was onlined this morning – how else could they not know what their life fuel looked like?
“Oh, it's just–” Nightshade began, but cut themselves off before finishing their sentence. They dragged their optics away from the cube to look at Starscream instead, but they still glanced at the glowing substance every few seconds.
Starscream let out a loud ex-vent. “You can have some, you know, instead of just staring.”
Nightshade squeaked. “No, no– it's all yours! I would prefer to not have energon at this moment.” If they insisted. Maybe the issue was sensitive tanks, or they were picky enough to refuse crudely-refined low-grade.
Starscream shrugged his shoulders, then took a swig of energon, though he was careful enough to leave about a quarter remaining. He would need to refine more of the few crystals he had and then go search for more. Plus, he'd need to factor in the new bot, and while they denied the energon right now, it certainly wouldn't be the case later.
Taking a look outside one of the few windows the Harbinger had (one being a giant hole in the ceiling), Nightshade could see the sky was a pinkish orange as the sun began to set. If they assumed that they teleported to this world at the same time as in their original one, then it meant a full day had passed already. It didn't feel like it, with all the excitement of working on Cybertronian technology and learning Neocybex.
At the speed that the two were working at repairing the Harbinger's technology, Nightshade could see themselves returning shortly. The Starscream of this world was clearly a smart scientist and had treated them well in the short time they'd known each other. Nightshade knew they shouldn't place all their trust in him, especially given they were talking to a Decepticon most famous for betraying others, but they didn't have many options.
Finding the Autobots would be a good idea – if they had a way to find them. Starscream didn't let Nightshade out of his sight for even a minute, so it wouldn't be possible for them to hack some Decepticon console to talk to them. Besides, that would require a knowledge of Neocybex and Cybertronian code which they definitely didn't have.
Plus, the extra things they were learning from Starscream could be essential to knowing how his world worked. Earlier, they had discovered that energon was blue, not pink – fully confirming their theory that this was an alternate dimension and not just a different location.
That fact didn't really sink in until now, as Nightshade watched the sun dip below the horizon. A new dimension… Wheeljack would be ecstatic at the chance to explore all of the differences, but this wasn't their plan at all! The only thing they could count on to get back was Starscream hopefully being generous enough to fix their device.
“What’s so interesting over there?” Starscream asked, jostling Nightshade out of their thoughts. He'd finished drinking his energon, already having locked up the room where kept it in, and was currently leaning on the wall beside it.
A lot of thoughts appeared in Nightshade's processor, though they dismissed all of them hastily. “The sunset is nice.”
Starscream made huffing sounds with his vents. “I suppose there are a few nice things on this planet.”
Nightshade would argue that there were many nice things on their home planet, though decided not to say anything knowing it would fall on deaf audials. Complete silence stretched on for a while until Starscream shuffled his wings, making a small noise as plating shifted against each other.
“You should take a proper break for now,” Starscream said.
Nightshade looked at him in confusion. “Is this… not my break?”
Starscream barked out a bitter laugh, “Ha! I'm not Megatron! Only he could overwork a sparkling like you.” Seeing how that didn't clarify anything to Nightshade, he continued. “I mean, not working and actually recharging.”
“Recharging?” Nightshade parroted.
“Recharging! Defragging cycles! Stasis naps! You know?!” Starscream looked exasperated. Did he mean sleeping? Nightshade was so used to using human terminology for things that they didn't immediately recognise the meaning at first.
“Oh,” they replied, “I’m not really tired either.”
That only succeeded in making Starscream look more irritated. He frowned, staring directly at Nightshade, like he was scrutinising their expression to find how they really felt. He yielded shortly after, as if he had found his answer. “Fine. But I will be going to recharge which means you cannot work unsupervised. You remember the quarters I assigned to you earlier?”
Nightshade nodded. Though half the ship was missing, it was still larger than the dugout, and they weren't exactly sure how to get to the room Starscream had shown them…
Starscream sighed as if he'd read the very thoughts in their processor, “I'll take you there.” He turned on his heel and began to walk in a direction without checking if they were following. Nightshade quickly fell into step behind him as they were led to their room.
Their room was on the smaller end of sizes, scarcely furnished with a hard slab for a bed in one corner, along with a desk and chair in another. Nightshade let out a small thank you as Starscream left, leaving the door to snap close automatically.
They wandered around the room, searching every nook and cranny for any hidden objects or any unique feature to the room besides the basic furniture, but found nothing. They sat down on the bed – that was nothing like theirs back in the dugout, filled with soft pillows and blankets – no, this one was metal, cold and rigid.
It made them miss home more. They'd get back soon, Nightshade reminded themself, removing the device from their subspace. This was what got them into this situation to begin with, and the sooner they fixed it, the sooner they could be back at home with their family.
Nightshade moved over to the desk and placed the device on it, switching on a light directly above. When they couldn't work on Cybertronian technology with Starscream, they'd work on fixing their warping device. With no need to sleep, it was a perfect plan!
It was only a matter of time before they were home again, they repeated to themself constantly as they worked tirelessly through the night.