Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“C’mon, c’mon. Please, just let go! ” Bumblebee cried out in frustration. He tried to kick at the C-4 that had a hold of him. The ugly creature warble-shrieked something before turning its gnarled face down to its prize. It roared at Bumblebee, making the human’s ears ring before tossing him up.

“Ooooh, shit.” Bumblebee yelled as his view spun. The gloomy gray sky revolved to the ground way down below. He hadn’t realized how far the bastard had brought him up in the air. He saw the stupid thing circling him as he started to fall back down.

“Nonono, catch me. Please, catch me. I won’t struggle anymore. I swear! Oh, thank God.” Bumblebee rambled as the thing latched onto him again. He sagged in his chair, staring out his visor numbly as the thing continued to fly.

Bumblebee shifted his gaze to look down again, gulping at the height. At least now we know what their range is. He thought morbidly. 

C-4s were the most mysterious of the Kaiju. They only seemed to appear when shit was royally fucked. C-4s were the only fliers, and command has been trying to figure out how high in their atmosphere they could reach. 

Bumblebee did not want to be their test jockey. 

Grunting, Bumblebee wiggled his mecha in the C-4s hold. It bent down and roared at him, making Bumblebee still immediately. Although riding this beast like one of the ugliest dragons ever would have been beneficial, he was not going to chance it dropping him again.

I’ll just… ride it out. Bumblebee though, not convincing himself to relax. He looked around wondering where they were going.

The C-4 got a few more flaps of its wings in before it shrieked with that bell-like undertone. Bumblebee cried out a protest, but it only added to the noise. He gritted his teeth, glaring out of his HUD as other C-4s answered it.

What the hell do they think they're doing? Bumblebee wondered as more C-4s flocked around the one carrying him. The pilot gulped, clutching his controls tightly. They aren’t going to try and eat me, are they?

His fears were misplaced as the air seemed to draw in on itself. Before his eyes, a giant portal opened up. He froze, gaping at the massive vortex. He’d never seen one this up close. He’d only heard other pilots talk about it before seeing it in the field that one time. 

The time Jazz disappeared. And died, but Bumblebee didn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to know what the Kaiju did when his mentor and partner was cut off from Earth. 

Well, you’re going to find out anyway, Bee. Bumblebee thought hysterically as the C-4 horde started flocking toward the portal.

“Actually, I changed my mind.” Bumblebee said, jerking his controls. His mecha came to life, flailing in its capture’s hold. “You can drop me. I’d rather face death here and be buried in the ground at a funeral service than go down wherever the hell you guys spawned and get a plaque of remembrance.” 

The C-4 holding protested his movement with a squawk. It turned its attention back to him, glaring before opening its mouth. Bumblebee’s heart leapt into his throat as his vision was filled with serrated teeth going all the way down its throat. The C-4 leaned in, biting down on the mecha’s shoulder and shaking. The thick plating held… mostly. Bumblebee received a few errors of some lines snapping, but the arm stayed intact. 

With that warning, the C-4 let go, just in time for bright light to envelop them. Bumblebee grunted as he felt like he was being pulled in all directions, He clenched his teeth, arms gripping fiercely at the arm rests, and eyes squeezed shut as he endured painful twisting and stretching. 

The only reason he knew they’d exited the vortex was because the C-4 suddenly threw him to the ground with a victory shriek. Bumblebee tried to get up- to move before the portal closed, but suddenly he felt arms and tentacles pinning his mecha down. 

“{Action: restrain enemy(hostage)}” His mecha translated as Bumblebee was easily pinned. He ‘felt’ his mecha’s arms being pulled behind its back, heavy restraints shackling them. The mecha’s legs were also thoroughly pinned while the distortion from the portal jump wore off. “{Harm: little. Mother: want alive.} {Proceeding restraints: tag and disarm.}”

Bumblebee groaned before finally being able to make out what was around him. Technorganic rooms greeted Bumblebee. Metal supports were lined with pulsing blue veins. It seemed to be the only light allowed in the room. It allowed Bumblebee to make out the figures around him.

The C-4s seemed to be getting harnessed, Kaiju that Bumblebee never met were leashing them before trudging away. They walked on two limbs with tentacle-like half-skirt fanning out from their backs. They wiggled and squirmed, coming forward to soothe the C-4s. Their heads seemed like the mix between an octopus and a monkey. They also wore what looked like tentacle beards, the little appendages didn’t seem to know how to be still.

These new creatures were also all over Bumblebee’s mecha. Once they were satisfied with the restraints, they hoisted Bumblebee up. Their slimy hands and tentacles stayed on him, getting under plating, making Bumblebee shiver.

“{Hold: Disarming engaging.}” 

Before Bumblebee could parse through the words, he got an error message that the paneling protecting his mecha’s circuits on his neck and hip were being pried apart. The circuitry on his neck were very important. It was where the scientists and engineers plugged in to correct the AI programming and some minor controls between the pilot and mecha. The one on his hip regulated his fueling and electricity.

Before Bumblebee could protest, he ‘felt’ two cables being plugged into him. He cried out as pure energy coursed through his systems, affecting his piloting controls. Most of his HUD went dark. He was left with only his vision and auditory sensors and then some manual override controls integrated into his chair. Besides that, Bumblebee was kicked out. 

“Shit.” He cursed, trying to restart the systems. 

He was so distracted that he didn’t realize his translation system was still going. His mecha translated “{Tag: initiating}” right before something clamped around his mecha’s neck. He cried out, mostly startled, as the thing around his neck snaked down, integrating with his mecha’s ‘spine.’ 

“What the hell?!” He yelled, furious. But he could do nothing but watch as he was suddenly dragged down the weird, alien halls of the ship. 

Heart racing, Bumblebee focused on remaining calm. You’re no help if you panic. Jazz’s words echoed through his mind. 

After what seemed like a long tedious journey, Bumblebee found himself in what looked to be the command bridge of the Kaiju. He barely got a glimpse of the technorganic layout. Images of Earth and videos of the C series attacking populated areas were shown on screens while more slimy, monstrous Kaiju Earth hadn’t even categorized worked at stations, their tentacles whirling about. 

“{Hail: Mother!}” Bumblebee heard one of his guards cry out. He barely registered the words before they threw his mecha to the floor. He grunted as his mecha took the impact face first, having no way to catch itself in the restraints. Even if the mecha’s limbs were free, Bumblebee had little control over the motor functions anymore.

He swore up a storm as some error alerts popped up on his dark HUD. But he cut short when some of his peripheral cameras caught sight of movement. He gasped sharply as he saw a sharp, spider-like talon come for him. 

Something latched onto his helm- multiple somethings. Bumblebee couldn’t help but look up at the ceiling of his cockpit. Even if he didn’t have audio sensors, he would have heard the things latching on to his mecha’s helm. He gulped, bracing himself as the mecha was lifted up by the helm. He came face to face with another new Kaiju.

This one was more humanoid… sort of. The facial features were ones Bumblebee could make out: eyes, nose, and a mouth. Those might have been ears. The things seemed to be a cross between a spider and an owl. The creature was surreal, giving Bumblebee a sense of uncanny valley. 

Bumblebee’s gaze went from the thing's face to its… hair? It was tentacle-like, almost- almost giving Medusa vibes. Except instead of laying down and pooling around its head, the locks continued upward, swirling around each other to connect to the veins in the ceiling. Soooo creepy.

“Ahh,” the thing exclaimed, looking Bumblebee over just like the mecha pilot was. It grinned widely, showing sharp, needle-like teeth. Bumblebee didn’t like it smiling. “We finally meet, face to face, Defender.”

Bumblebee jolted, embarrassed that a squeaked left his throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth, cursing himself. 

The new… Spider-Medusa Kaiju’s smile flared into a grin. “Why so frightened? Were you unaware that we knew your language? That seems oddly pompous for such a savage species such as yourselves. If you were able to translate our native tongue, then surely, we can learn yours.”

Bumblebee’s mouth was dry. Of course, these fucking creatures knew Earth languages. It had taken forever for Bumblebee’s commanders to realize the Kaiju actually had a language themselves. Only the C-2s spoke it, and their knowledge of it seemed rudimentary.

Before he could really comprehend anything, Bumblebee found himself speaking. “Why are you doing this?” He said, voice hoarse and desperate. 

The Spider-Medusa seemed to brighten at his words. “It talks! Marvelous! I was afraid I’d taken a broken, mute toy to add to my collection.” It- she? - said. With a wave of one of those spider talons (Bumblebee just realized they were coming out of her back, and that she still had a hold of his helm) she let go of Bumblebee, letting him drop. He didn’t fall far before arms and tentacles were catching him, holding his mecha securely in place.

It was only then, as Spider-Medusa walked away- the Bumblebee realized she couldn’t walk. She seemed to wear a gown of tentacles, only it wasn’t a dress but just her body . He gagged at the way she crawled, walking around the command deck.

“As for your question, Pet.” Spider-Medusa continued, slyly looking back at Bumblebee. She gave a little shrug. “Everyone needs to eat.”

“You’re… You’re going to eat me !” Bumblebee choked out, heart racing.

Spider-Medusa had the audacity to laugh. It rang out close to a minute, making Bumblebee squirm.

“You’re a funny little thing, aren’t you.” Spider-Medusa said, slither-crawling back toward Bumblebee. She took hold of his mecha’s chin in her long, thin fingers. “We are not… what’s the word? Carnivorous?” Spider-Medusa said, tilting her head and smiling. “Yes, not technically anyway.”

With a tsk, Spider-Medusa scraped her fingers against the mecha’s chin. Whirling around, she looked back at the video feed. Bumblebee followed her gaze, stomach dropping. Ships- what had to be thousands of them- were circling Earth. A lot of them seemed to have a long, sharp protrusion coming off them, almost like a gun.

“You see, Pet,” Spider-Medusa continued, “we Quintesson are a sophisticated breed. We were once like your kind: savage. We fed off what our world provided us. Be the inferior flora or fauna.

“But then we started to adventure out in the stars. The universe is a vast region. And very few worlds have the means to keep us at baseline.” Spider-Medusa lectured. She had gone over to one of the veins in the ship. From out of nowhere, she produced a… syringe? That’s what it looked like, except a large-scale version that an evil lab scientist would have on a kids show. 

Without remorse, she stabbed it into one of the veins of the ship. A squealing sound erupted from around them. Bumblebee felt sick. Were they… was the ship alive ? They were inside a living being! 

Spider-Medusa filled the syringe. A weird yellow-green liquid slushed around in the vile. Bumblebee felt his heart pick up speed and arms shake with unwanted adrenaline as she slithered back toward him.

“For example, you… humans , was it?” Spider-Medusa asked, arching a brow. “Your species needs nutrients and water daily to survive. It is best to consume these multiple times a day. Then there is your need for shelter and clothing. It is quite fascinating how long your species has been able to not only survive- but thrive when your structure is so fragile.

“Oh, and how could I forget!” Spider-Medusa said as she came back up to his mecha. Instead of looking at the visor, she knelt, smiling at the armor protecting his cockpit. She tapped on it. Bumblebee jolted, shrinking inwards. “You need oxygen to survive. It is a very exotic element, you should understand. Mymy, you will be an expensive pet to keep around.”

“...pet?” Bumblebee rasped out. Immediately after he said it, he cursed himself. Out of everything she said, that ’s what he decided to focus on.

“Of course!” Spider-Medusa grinned cheerfully. Bumblebee wondered what it would take to knock the smile off her face. “I have a habit of collecting. I find it difficult to remember every world I conquer without taking at least one specimen. 

“And my, what a prize you are.” Spider-Medusa said, circling around Bumblebee. The pilot watched from the cameras as Spider-Medusa took him in. His gaze went down to the syringe that she still held. “The intuitive nature of your species makes up for the lack of a hardened shell.” Spider-Medusa chuckled. “I mean, you’ve obviously perfected the art of making your own shells!”

The hands and tentacles holding Bumblebee’s mecha shifted as Spider-Medusa got behind him. Bumblebee stiffened when Spider-Medusa lingered behind him. 

“If nurtured, I’m sure your species would have advanced like my has.” Spider-Medusa claimed. The hand not holding the syringe went to the mecha’s hip plating, right where they had forcefully plugged into him just a little while ago. “It might have taken you a while to find a way to properly fuel yourselves. It took mine millennia to figure it out.”

The panel to his fuel reserves opened. Before Bumblebee could protest, Spider-Medusa stabbed the syringe into it, slowly releasing its contents.

“However, we endure. Finally, we evolved past our primitive, organic bases. We made our new fuel source. It seems to be compatible with multiple creatures throughout the universe. I doubt your kind will be much different in accepting the energy source.”

Bumblebee dreadfully watched his fuel level climb. His HUD glitched, the liquid injected into his mecha not mixing well. He shrank in on himself, knowing his mecha would likely explode with the foreign fuel running through its lines. 

However, despite his worry, the system seemed to work. Too well. Bumblebee felt the thing attached to his mecha’s neck and spine thrum to life. Some systems on his HUD suddenly came to life again. He cried out when his fueling port attached to his connector and whatever Spider-Medusa injected into his mecha went into him .

Crying out, Bumblebee squirmed trying to get away, but he was stuck. Fire burned through his veins and his brain with dizziness and a buzzing sensation as he was pumped with the foreign substance. A warm feeling entered his stomach, making him groan in discomfort. He curled into himself as much as he could when strapped in.

“Wonderful!” Spider-Medusa exclaimed as Bumblebee died in the cockpit. “It never fails to baffle me how such two entirely different units can take in the same type of fuel. An organic carbon creature and his metal shell using the same fuel source is the perfect example of the Quintessons might. You will definitely be a nice entry into my collection.”

Bumblebee groaned. This doesn’t feel perfect . He thought.

Spider-Medusa hummed in mock sympathy. Bumblebee jolted, realizing he said it aloud. “It hurts right now, doesn’t it, dear? Don’t worry, the longer you’re on {could not find translation} the better off you’ll be. I assure you, after a few more doses, I’ll have you begging at feeding time.”

“That sounds more like drug addiction.” Bumblebee spat out, gritting his teeth against the warmth flooding through him.

“I supposed {could not find translation} can have such an effect.” Spider-Medusa mused as she rounded Bumblebee’s mecha again. She leaned forward with a smile. “But don’t worry, Pet, I’ll be in charge of regulating you.” 

Bumblebee shivered.

“Now that I have you, my lovely, secure,” Spider-Medusa purred in a syrupy voice, “we can begin the syphon.” She turned to the rest of the Kaiju in the command room, calling out orders in her alien tongue. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” Bumblebee called out as a platform in the middle of the room rose from the floor. Spider-Medusa stepped onto it. Her gown of tentacles unfurled as hidden monitors came up. 

“Preparing to eat, Pet.” Spider-Medusa said. “You see, {could not find translation} is not a natural founding material… Well,” Spider-Medusa looked back with a cunning grin, “it is, but the phenomenon that creates it is quite… rare.”

Even with the warmth flowing through him, Bumblebee went cold. “What’s the phenomenon?”

“A collapsing planet, of course.” Spider-Medusa said cheerfully, like the answer was obvious. 

“What?!” Bumblebee exclaimed. His attention turned back to the screens that showed the ships swarming Earth. Nothing had really changed except for the ones with guns glowing ominously.

“And it’s not even just a planet, which is really annoying.” Spider-Medusa claimed, “they have to meet a few requirements to produce {could not find translation}. Those requirements usually mean some sort of life form can also be produced, which comes in handy for locating these planets. It’s why {could not find translation} is such a universal fuel.” 

Spider-Medusa continued to ramble, but Bumblebee wasn’t listening. Instead, he semi-detached himself from his mecha’s processor so he was more aware of his cab. His gaze went to his right arm rest. Detaching the cuffs from his wrists, he pried the cushioned panel away. Underneath were manual controls. One such was under a glass case that said, “EMERGENCY USE ONLY.”

Unwrapping the security strap on his glove, Bumblebee scrambled to take it off. He placed his thumb on the scanner. A second later, the glass was sliding away, showing the kill switch button.

Once he pushed it, Bumblebee’s mecha would become a live bomb, detonating and destroying the room and surrounding areas around them. From what he gathered, Spider-Medusa was the main head of this operation. He’d kill her and probably a lot of important Kaiju. It might even bring an end to their war on Earth. Humanity would be saved.

With just a push of a button.

But I’d die. The thought was unwanted. Bumblebee knew becoming a mecha pilot would bring his death. But he wanted to help his planet, and if he did this, he’d become a legendary hero. Peace would prosper with him gone. 

Licking his lips, Bumblebee tried to shake away the fear. It’ll be worth it. Besides, command would never welcome him back if they found out what an opportunity he let up. If they knew where he was, they’d have pulled their override kill switch to his mecha already.

So, Bumblebee pressed the button.

Or tried to.

“Ah ah!” Spider-Medusa called out. That’s all Bumblebee could register before his mecha force ejected him.

Bumblebee cried out as he was suddenly cut off from his shell. It was unpleasant enough when unplugging after a battle with medics and engineers coaxing his consciousness out of the mainframe with patience and time on his side. It was excruciating to be ripped away with only mere seconds to adapt.

And that didn’t count for him being launched out of the cockpit and into the room around them. Bumblebee watched as his mecha went dark. He felt the artificial gravity of the ship take control of his tiny body. He had no time to check his shielding tech before thin, boney (yet large) hands caught him.

“There you are!” Spider-Medusa said. Her voice- her everything- seemed bigger outside the mecha. Bumblebee squeaked as he was taken by the scruff of his suit and held up to Spider-Medusa’s head.

“My, you humans really are small.” She exclaimed, her free hand poking at him.

“Let me go!” Bumblebee snapped, hands coming up to cling to the appendage holding him while kicking at the other.

Spider-Medusa made a sound between a hum and short laugh. “But very vocal! And your coverings- er, clothing, yes? - they’re different from what the Scouts have recorded other humans wearing. Does being a Warrior grant you the different coverings?”

“I’m not answering that!” Bumblebee yelled, still thrashing about. “And I won’t let you destroy Earth, either!”

“Oh, Pet,” Spider-Medusa gave a soft laugh. Bumblebee tried to muffle his cry as one of her tentacles came up to stroke his side. “You really don’t have any control over this situation.” Spider-Medusa then turned back to her followers, talking in that foreign language. Without his mecha, Bumblebee had no idea what she was saying.

After a moment of tentacles rustling about, Spider-Medusa looked down at the alien in her hold. She smiled, whirling around to the monitors. “Observe.” 

Bumblebee was helpless to watch at the ships with guns fired at Earth. A white beam came out of them, seemingly never ending. The rest of the ships seemed to form the supports for… a forefield? 

When the white beams hit Earth, the explosions they made had to instantly vaporize any life. Bumblebee could tell what really happened after that. His voice felt hoarse, but he heard no sound. Spider-Medusa clasped him in both her hands but seemed to struggle with his flailing body.

Bumblebee’s eyes stayed locked on the screens. As the Earth’s crust seemed to crack and cave in, the molten layers underneath burst out. They seemed to fight the white beams before the forcefield shrunk in. It slowly forced the magma together, what was left of Earth’s crust sloshing around in the mess.

Nothing… could survive that.

Spider-Medusa turned away before the ships were done dismantling Bumblebee’s home. Bumblebee felt himself fading out. He looked over to see his mecha being hauled away. Creatures as small as humans were crawling inside the cockpit, looking it over.

He felt himself being pulled closer to Spider-Medusa; her hands cupped him close to her chest. “Such an emotional thing,” she purred before everything went black.

Bumblebee didn’t know how long he was out, but he was awoken to being force fed that terrible, thick goo. It thrashed, but Spider-Medusa was firm. The days- months after- Bumblebee felt like he wasn’t all there. He was just an observer in his body as he was pushed and prodded by Spider-Medusa ( “You may call me Master, Pet.” ).

However, slowly, Bumblebee was able to- not ‘get over’ the destruction of Earth… but he started to accept it. He fucked up. A split-second hesitation killed billions. 

And now he had to live with it. At least for a while. He would not docilely become a plaything for Spider-Medusa. He’d make her life hell as long as he could.

Then, when he finally had an opportunity.

He’d kill her, taking everyone on the ship with them.

Chapter Text

“Unhand me you… organic ruffians!” Starscream screeched, thrashing against the tentacles holding him hostage. It was embarrassing enough to be taken off guard by organics, but to be handled in such an inelegant fashion was the highest of offensives.

“Oh, and what have we here?”

Starscream turned his raging optics to a rather ugly Quintessons (although the beasts that were groping him probably found her attractive). He flicked his wing, recognizing the figure from one of his professor’s lectures back at the Academy (Pits, was that forever ago). 

The creature before him was an Anchor. They ran Quintesson motherships. They were literally a part of the ships. On the home world, the ships were grown (disgusting yet fascinating). Once a mothership was fully developed, Quintesson High Command emplaced a parasite, aka the Anchor. They hacked into the ship, feeding off it. High Command would then give the Anchor a set number of crew members to man the ship. If an Anchor desired more, they’d mate with alluring crew members to expand. The more crew and ships they made, the more powerful and respected they were.

An Anchor’s end goal was to make enough children that they could just dispose of (usually by consuming) the original crew members. It would ensure all their lackeys would be loyal to ‘the Mother.’ Afterward, they’d do their best to bend over backwards for High Command. The fragging suck ups. 

“You!” Starscream seethed at the commander of the crew. “I demand to be released. Your crew’s treatment of captives is brutish and undignified. It goes against all accords of the UAIS. Therefore, I should receive compensation for-”

“Ah, a Cybertronian.” The Anchor drawled, clearly dismissive. Starscream snapped his intake shut in surprise.

With a put upon sigh, the Anchor sat up from her throne, tentacles whirling and spinning as she made her way down from a dais. She looked over Starscream with her technorganic optics. The dormant scientist in Starscream rose up, itching to dissect the creature.

“I find it amusing that you think you still have a standing on the Unified Alliance of Interplanetary Species Council.” The Anchor mused with a devilish smile. “Sweetspark,” she cooed, making Starscream snarl in disgust, “you no longer have a planet . Your inferior species decided it was better destroyed, surrendering it to your petty civil war.” 

Starscream tried to back away when one of the Anchor’s tentacles came up to his faceplates. The technorganic’s children held him tightly, however, making him endure the slimy caress. 

The Anchor gave a wicked smile. “I can do whatever I want with you, and the Council wouldn’t bat an eye.” A bony digit came up, scratching Starscream under his chin guard. He seethed, thrashing against the beasts holding him back.

“You are lucky, Cybertronian,” the Anchor continued, enjoying Starscream’s struggle. He squawked when her children slammed him to the ground, keeping him squirming on his front. “I am feeling merciful. I think I’ll keep you. Your kind is rare, especially now you have no means of reproducing. Such a shame, really. I wish my predecessors had tried harder to keep your planet in our empire. Perhaps, then you wouldn’t have snuffed yourselves into extinction.”

“As if a couple of organics could have actually kept the might of Cybertron- unhand me, you slimy filth! You-mmmh!” Starscream started before a tentacle wormed its way into his intake. A high-pitched squawk garbled itself from Starscream’s vocalizer as the revolting thing slithered down his tubing. He frantically fought against the alien’s hold on him. He barely registered being manipulated into a kneeling position until he felt bony fingers feeling his neck cabling.

“Let’s see,” the Anchor murmured to herself, feeling up Starscream’s neck. “I recall a port being- ah!” Starscream’s medical port deftly opened with a few pressure points being hit. He felt his spark spin frantically at the action. He had no idea that could happen! A high whine emanates from his vocalizer as something slips around his neck, locking into place, and sinking into his port. 

Once it was in place, alien glyphs (letters) scrawled across his HUD. Without his permission, parts of his processor are partitioned off from his control. Starscream felt horrified outrage engulf him as all he could do was watch foreign coding seethe his frame from him.

“There we are!” The Anchor gushed. Suddenly, the limps and tentacles holding Starscream vanish. The last thing to go was the squirming appendage coming out of his intake. Starscream fell over onto his servos and knee guards, coughing to try and get the slime that coats his innards out . “Isn’t that better, Cy?”

“I will-” Starscream exclaims, bringing his null ray online. He started to climb to his peds when a sizzling sensation ran from his processor through his lines. He cried out in pain as the feeling traveled to burn across his spark. Starscream found himself sprawled out flat on the floor, null ray cold, as he twitched helplessly. He gritted his denta as a shadow came across him. 

“There, there.” The Anchor cooed condescendingly. “The pain will go away once you stop resisting. I’m sure you’ll learn better. Your ancestors certainly didn’t have trouble bowing.”

“This is not over.” Starscream growled out, trying to fight his paralysed struts. He turned inward, trying to claw at the partitions in his mind. “I am Starscream! Second in Command of the Decepticons! You will show me the respect I have rightfully-”

“Ooo.” The Anchor tutted, bring a hand up to her temple. Suddenly more of those alien letters scrolled across Starscream’s HUD. A moment later his vocalizer froze and locked down. “That’s better. Once you’ve learned your manners, I’ll give you your voice back. Or- ugh, maybe not.” The Anchor brought her bony hand up to her head, messaging her sticky flesh. “It’s a very dreadful sound. I might have to find a different solution if I’m to know my new pet’s concerns.” 

Starscream flared his EMF in outrage. But of course, it was useless. Stupid organic creatures didn’t understand field speak. A shame, Starscream’s perfected the art. He was proud to admit that he’s given all members of Decepticon High Command a glorious helmache from just his field. On a good cycle, it has gotten rid of Megatron so he could scheme. On a bad one, the warlord’s fist was squeezing his neck cabling, and his wings were being torn.

The Anchor suddenly trilled in her native tongue. The limbs and tentacles come back, hoisting Starscream up. He made sure his glare was known as the Anchor smiled sweetly at him. “Off you go, Pet.” The Anchor announced, “I’ve got a lovely little detainment cell readied just for you! 

“But don’t worry,” the Anchor added, rubbing one of her tentacles of Starscream’s dermas (Disgusting! I’d bite it if that didn’t guarantee it getting in my mouth! ), making his tanks want to reject the fuel he had. “Once I’m satisfied with your training, you’ll start to get some freedoms. You’re an aerial, correct?-”

Seeker! I’m a Seeker of Vos . No other air frame can compare to such-

“Once you're docile, I’ll let you go on a fly every once and a while.” The Anchor’s smile turned cunning, “I could actually make use of you, Pet. There are rumors that the Allspark still exists. What better way of tracking it down than using one of its creations?”

As if I’d help your kind. You obviously don’t understand who you’re dealing with. I will make you rue the day you messed with Starscream! I will burn this ship to the ground! I’ll slaughter your children, but first! I’ll gut you in front of them. Yes! No one commands Starscream! I’ll-

His internal tangent made Starscream obvious to what the Quintessons were talking about. His twitching limbs suddenly stalled. Movement- be it purposeful flailing or accidental twitches- was no longer possible. He was dead weight, easy for the Anchor’s children to drag away.

“It was wonderful meeting you, Pet.” The Anchor said cheerfully. “I cannot wait to start our training. I’m sure we will start a wondrous relationship between Master and Pet!”

I doubt it, you organic savage! Starscream railed in his mind. How he wished he could scream at the deranged creature. This isn’t over! Not by a like shot! I’ll make you regret ever crossing the path of-

The doors shut behind the throne room before Starscream could finish his rant. Once the Anchor was out of view, her children descended on Starscream. Their organic appendages wrapped around him, slime oozing through his seams and staining protoform. It was a revolting sensation that would haunt Starscream for deca-vorns to come. 

The tentacles felt alone his neck, where that stupid collar was placed. Before Starscream can figure out what was happening the world went dark as he was forced into stasis.

- - - - - - - - - -

The Anchor watched her creations tow away the Cybertronian. Mixed feelings inflicted her about her new possession. Ultimately, owning a Cybertronian was seen as a status symbol. When Quintessons ruled over Cybertron, the more of the slaved sparks someone had, the more powerful they were. Since they gained their freedom, Cybertronians have been a nuisance. Mostly they were seen as an infestation needed to be eradicated.

But those were free sparks. The slave-coded transforming beings were rare and few these days, but they still existed. And they were still the status symbol they were way back when. However, most- no, all - had been sparked in captivity. The Anchor has gained one without any sort of training or slaved processor.

If she could tame it, she would gain a great boon. High Command would praise her. And once they captured the Allspark, she might be asked to train Cybertron’s next generation. She would be a set example for her peers. 

I must claim its spark. She thought devotedly.

Suddenly, the lights flickered. From her throne, the Anchor’s gaze snapped up. She sunk her consciousness into the beast she tamed, commanding it to submit. She only got pained whines in return as the weak-minded creature tried to obey, only for the lights to flicker again before shutting off.

“What is going on?” She demanded, rising from her throne. Her tentacles ready to lash out at the closest thing.

“Mother,” one of her creations spoke, prostrating themselves in front of her.

“Speak.” She commands, eyes flaring. “What is the meaning of this?”

“It seems someone has tampered with our systems.” The groveling servant winced as sparks flew from the lights above. “Our hive is already working to clear the error that has occurred. We should have power back-”

Just then, the lights came back with a vengeance. They flared bright, the mothership turning up the brilliance to try and please its Anchor. The results made the Anchor’s more light-sensitive children cry out.

The Anchor didn’t react besides giving a sharp reprimand to the mothership. The lights went back to their normal, dim settings, easing the pain of her creations.

Looking out on the crowd sternly, the Anchor slowly lowered herself back down into her seat. She fretted over positioning her tentacles to give her time to gather her thoughts. When she was ready, she looked out again, finding her children at rapt attention.

“My darling creations,” the Anchor cooed in a musical cheer, “I have kept you around because I know you are the best of the best. You come from me, after all, so surely there can be no flaws in your DNA.”

“We live for the Mother.” Her children vowed as one. The multiple voices coming together as one was one the Anchor’s favorite sounds.

“Good.” The Anchor exclaimed. She smiled as one of her more simple-minded creations slithered forward. It was little more than a crawling rug. She allowed herself to pet it- comfort the darling thing- before her tentacle wrapped around it, squeezing its lights out.

The swooning mood immediately turned cold as her raging eyes washed over the crowd. “Then tell me why my ship isn’t running at optimal power? Why should the lights flicker if you all believe no flaws can be found by the crew that I command?”

“Mother- pardon me, please- for my interruption.” A gravelly voice called out. The Anchor looked over, softening her expression when she found her Keeper coming forward. Once she had been disgusted by the mutated creature. He had no purpose; thus, he should have been immediately killed.

But the Anchor did not create weakness. Although he was a disfigured lummox walking on two limbs with weak tentacles and stubby front limbs, the Keeper was cunning and devoted. He figured out his mother’s love of keeping exotic pets and learned how to care for them. The Anchor didn’t allow anyone else to touch her trophies. And as her menagerie grew, the Anchor trusted the Keeper to keep up with the health and whereabouts of her pets as well as preserve them when the time came. 

“Ah, my Keeper.” The Anchor said, looking him over. “What possible help could you be in figuring out the problem with my ship?”

The Keeper prostrated himself. “I believe one of your favored pets is the cause of the malfunction, Mother.”

The Anchor tensed, eyes sharpening. “Really now?” She implored, giving her Keeper a cool look. “And here I thought you were doing such a good job containing my trophies. I thought I could trust you with them, Keeper.”

If the Keeper was concerned with the Anchor’s tone, he didn’t show it. “I apologize for my neglectfulness, Mother. However, I thought you were aware of this pet’s… orneriness.”

“Oh?” The Anchor exclaimed, arching a brow. She sat back on her throne. “And what exact pet are you referring to?”

“The homo sapien, Mother.” The Keeper declared. “It refuses to stay put, and- per your orders- has been allowed to free roam the ship.”

“Ah, the human.” The Anchor said, a flicker of a smile crossing her face. “It keeps breaking expectations. Clever little thing.”

The Anchor really did adore the small organic. Its species had fascinated her. If she hadn’t been ordered by High Command to destroy their planet, she’d have experimented with the species. They had made a defense system that- perhaps flimsy and simplistic- was undoubtedly sagacious for a creature of such a new species. The Anchor loved the pet she ended up taking from the planet.

“Mother, may I advise you?” The Keeper begged.

“What is it?” The Anchor asked crisply, getting pulled from her thoughts.

“I implore you to consider preserving the creature.” The Keeper said. “I fear the homo sapien will only continue its chaotic misadventures. It will tamper with the ship, going much deeper than some lights flickering. It’s dangerous, Mother. Left unattended like this, it could-”

“Say no more on the subject, Keeper.” The Anchor said, holding a hand up. The Keeper obediently closed his mouth, bowing once more. “I find myself amused by the human’s little tricks. Until my humor has worn, I will allow it to scamper about.

“Besides, it is a delicate creature. Once preserved, the human will cease to function. I wish to study it throughout its entire lifecycle. I hear they’re short, so the ship shouldn’t suffer much from its actions.”

“Your word is law,” was all the Keeper said.

“As it should.” The Anchor agreed before sighing. “But of course, I do not want this to become a regular activity. When is the human’s next feeding?”

“In just a movement, Mother,” the Keeper said eagerly. “It pains me to admit, but I rarely am able to physically monitor the being’s intake of the food. The thing is drastically skittish. However, I’ve made sure to keep critical watch over its shell. The machine comes in handy when figuring out the human’s wellbeing.”

“The mecha does seem to be its weak point.” The Anchor conceded. “Do not concern yourself with the creature’s next feeding. I will take care of it myself. It will not gain sustenance until it has taken it from my own hand.”

“Of course, Mother.”

“The tricks may be cute.” The Anchor said, seemingly to know one. “But in the end, I command this ship. I won’t have anyone taking authority into their own hands, let alone one of my pets.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Bumblebee watched from the vents as the red, white, and blue mecha was dragged away. His eyes were locked on it, dull emotions flickering at the familiar/unfamiliar sight. 

What are you? He thought, feeling the need to know. 

Watching the Quintessons trail away, Bumblebee got up from his crouched position. He flicked up the cover of the crude built in monitor on his forearm. He’d built it long ago, stealing parts from the Quints and his own mecha to create it. Although he was no way near being a master engineer, Bumblebee did not know the ins and outs of his mecha in case he was ever stranded in the field.

He never realized how much his education would affect. It was what allowed him to survive all these years.

Glancing over his oxygen vitals, Bumblebee estimated how long he could make it before he got back to his mecha. He still had a good hour left, plenty of time to figure out the latest victim of Spider-Medusa. 

Getting up, Bumblebee looked down the vent that would lead him to the brig. That was likely where Red, White and Blue was being stashed. Although it would let Bumblebee get a closer look at the machine, it wouldn’t help him figure out what it was.

With a grunt, Bumblebee turned the other way, heading toward the bridge. With Spider-Medusa in her throne room, the monitors should be free to hack. Technically, Bumblebee’s been able to get access while she’s in there, but her omnipresent vigil of the ship was likely to latch onto his presence with him close by.

Bumblebee shuddered, remembering the last time his master caught him. She treated him like a child’s prized stuffed animal, never leaving his sight. She forced fed him that metallic drug-like liquid before wrapping him in her tentacles. The slime got everywhere;  Bumblebee shuddered again. He wasn’t able to squirm out of the disgusting cocoon. He was dragged everywhere Spider-Medusa went. 

He couldn’t even escape it while he slept. That damned collar Spider-Medusa strapped on him when he first arrived was linked to his neural uplink. Bumblebee has no idea how Spider-Medusa was even able to do that. She had almost no knowledge about how the mechas worked, let alone the bio interface between mecha and pilot. Yet that didn’t stop her from creating a middleman device that was constantly linked to Bumblebee. Spider-Medusa was absolutely delighted to find out she could control Bumblebee’s dreams the first time he fell asleep with her around.

Gritting his teeth against the memories, Bumblebee pushed himself back into the present. His hand came up to reposition his mask before making his way to the bridge again. Absently, he unsheathed the spear on his back (by ‘spear’ he met a thin rod he’d snapped off the ship before welding one of his daggers to one of the ends).

The ventilation system of the Quint ship was very different from Earth ships. It was lined with tubing, no surface completely flat. Bumblebee spent his first few months stumbling along the pulsing vein-like tubes. They all seemed to have a different purpose. Some were almost translucent, and Bumblebee could feel the trickling fluid sludge down the lines through his boots. Some squished when he walked across them, giving him the ilk. Others were almost furry. Over time, Bumblebee has trained himself to ignore the different textures.

Throughout the tubing were sometimes these squishy circles with spiraling colors. Bumblebee learned the hard way that the things were eyes . When he first set out on his… expeditions, he’d gotten lost in the sea of tubes. Bumblebee would have died from starvation just wandering. Hell, he had wanted that to happen. He holed himself away from Elf-Rhino, his master’s Keeper. He thought he’d been in a secluded corner of the tubing where no Quint would be able to get to him. It was a shadowed, slightly squishy place that seemed impenetrable.

Those swirling circles had been there, of course. The mothership had plenty of them in its blind spots. Spider-Medusa had hacked, easily getting to Bumblebee’s location. She had somehow made the ship to warp the tubing away. Bumblebee had fallen right into Spider-Medusa’s waiting hands, injected with that stupid drug.

It was then that Spider-Medusa showed her full potential. Bumblebee knew his master could interface with his mind before she tampered with his dreams. Through the collar, she’d sunk her mental claws into his mind as she reprogrammed him like some faulty tech.

The thought bore down on Bumblebee, making him tense. He tried ignoring the stiff collar on his neck. Not even looking, he stabbed his spear into the swirling eye next to him. He heard a squeal emanate through the mothership but ignored it as he continued his journey.

Bad pet. Spider-Medusa’s voice whispered in his mind. Bumblebee clenched his jaw against the despair he felt. His want to please his master was sickening. Bumblebee knew he wasn’t actually feeling the emotions, yet it felt real. The will to please- to obey- was intoxicating. In just one uplink, Spider-Medusa had locked away Bumblebee’s suicidal urges and most of his resistance. He was wrapped around his alien master’s finger (sometimes literally), and Bumblebee had no idea how to escape it. 

Although he was restrained both mentally and physically, Bumblebee grudgingly admitted he had some… privileges. Spider-Medusa could do whatever she wanted to the little human, but she mostly left Bumblebee to his own devices.

You’re not my only pet, after all. Bumblebee didn’t hold the spotlight. Spider-Medusa was busy committing genocide and caring for the other pets and… her children . Although Bumblebee felt like he was always targeted by Spider-Medusa, he knew it was just his new mental programming fixating on his master. In actuality, he was mostly alone. Isolated. Time no longer mattered to him. Days, weeks, months… years. Throughout it all, nothing has changed. 

Something has to give. Bumblebee thought determinedly. The resolute voice had started to dim. I will not die a pet. 

Bumblebee finally arrived at the entrance to the bridge. Over the weeks/months/years the mothership has learned to treat Bumblebee like a pest (that couldn’t be killed). It tried to stop him from getting to restricted or hard-to-reach areas. The tubing would shrink together tighter, leaving Bumblebee unable to walk or crawl through. 

The bridge entrance vents were almost crushed together like that. Bumblebee narrowed his eyes at the tubing, huffing. The mothership has come to enjoy giving him a hard time. It seemed to chitter smugly around him as it innocently opened a hatch in front of Bumblebee’s feet. The human peered down at a side corridor. A crawling land squid thing was slithered by, but otherwise the area was clear. 

Cursing, Bumblebee fiddled with the other mechanism on his back. He clicked things into configuration. His bio link systems were under Spider-Medusa’s will, so any of his suits systems he wanted access to had to be manually engaged. Bumblebee grunted before sighing in relief when his grappling claw finally engaged.

He knelt at the opening, readying himself for the drop. He looked around at the technorganic alcove.

“Bitch.” Bumblebee muttered before ramming the claw into the flesh of the creature. He ignored the gum-like texture, instead focusing on the mothership’s squeals as he repelled down to the ground. 

With alert eyes, Bumblebee scoped out the hallways as he made his way to the floor. He was at his most vulnerable right now. Although Spider-Medusa was their mother/commander, her creations weren’t always interested in changing their behavior for her beloved pets. Although Bumblebee couldn’t blame them. From what he has observed, they were a simple, stupid hoard of creatures.

Nothing showed up by the time he made it to the ground, but Bumblebee stayed tense as he yanked the claw out, making the mothership shriek again. Once he had it back into its holster, he scurried down the hall like some opportunistic rat. Bumblebee turned the corner to see one of the entrances to the bridge. He stayed away from the main one that the Quints had first dragged his mecha through to meet Spider-Medusa. That one led to the main console that his master manned. There was no way Bumblebee couldn’t go undetected hacking that thing. Plus, it was in the middle of command central, no hiding from her goons there.

Instead, he waited by a side door. The bridge was connected to all the floors of the mothership. A dozen or so monitors on every level. The bridge seemed to act as the brain of the technorganic, every monitor was able to control something vital on the ship (or house vital information). Bumblebee has observed that five or so Quints rotated through one monitor every week/month. By the number of Quints crawling in and out this entrance, it seemed shift change was coming.

He snapped open his crude onboard monitor again to make sure he was in the right spot. The monitors on the lowest level of the ship were the furthest away from Spider-Medusa’s mind. The distance from her monitor afforded the Quints manning their stations to be laxer, the thought of a puny human getting underfoot wasn’t even in the realm of possibility for them. They haven’t caught Bumblebee hacking their servers from just under their tentacles yet, and he planned to keep it that way. 

Crouching in the shadows, Bumblebee waited for his moment. He recognized the lumpy rodent-squid approaching the entrance. He watched it walk by his hiding spot slowly. Right as Bumblebee entered his blind spot he was off crouch-trotting at the beast’s side. He dared to get inches from the slithering, slimy tentacles. Bumblebee split his attention between them and the guards posted at the doors.

As the rodent-squid neared the guards, Bumblebee slowed his pace until he was to the back but off to the side of the rodent-squid. He found out the hard way that these things had a single eye in the back of their heads, hidden under thin tentacles that made a cape or ponytail-like protrusion depending on the beast. Although it gave them a better range of vision, they still didn’t know what happened around their profiles. 

The better sight range also seemed to be all they had going for them. Although the underside of their tentacles (particularly the suction cups) were highly sensitive. The rough, crusty skin on the tops of them were touch numb. Bumblebee easily stepped up onto one, briskly making his way from their tips up to the creatures back. The protective tentacles around the rodent-squid eye hindered it from seeing anything underneath it.

Bumblebee braced as the Quints greeted each other. He tensed as the rodent-squid slithered through, wondering if this time one of the guards would glance at the incoming worker to see a tiny human trying to infiltrate their bridge.

They stared ahead, but Bumblebee didn't relax his scrunched shoulders until the doors were clothes. He blinked at the dimmer lighting before shaking himself off. He jumped off the rodent-squid, shuffling to the wall before any of his compatriots saw him. He slammed his back between the first monitor’s frame, sliding back till his shoulder hit the wall. Paranoid eyes looked up at the bustling levels above. This was the only bad thing about the lower level, every Quint above could peer down, seeing the little human pet among them at any time. 

Here goes nothing. Bumblebee thought, eyebrows slanting forward in determination. From there he slowly made his way between the monitor frames and tentacles to the console he was looking for.

Although he didn’t do this often, Bumblebee’s done it enough times that he installed a sort of backdoor into the Quint monitors. It easily allowed his bio link to get to the core of it. He could still get detected plugging in or surfing through the data, but it was a lot less loud than hacking his way in.

Sadly, the monitor wasn’t unmanned. They rarely ever were. Bumblebee made his way through the tentacles of the creature before coming up to a side panel. Bringing out a small knife, he discreetly pried away the panel protecting the monitor's innards. He felt his heart race as he watched those squirming tentacles (they were always moving). He finally managed to get the panel loose just as a tentacle arched forward. A squeak left him as he ducked, the sensitive suction cups almost grazing him. Not waiting for an invitation, Bumblebee ducked into the internals of the computer, light closing the panel behind him.

Circuitry, hard drives, and memory chips surrounded Bumblebee. It was a tight fit, even for a tiny human. Fortunately, last time he’d cleared room for a sort of… nest. Wires and tubing had been flattened or moved away from a connector port, almost resembling a fort. Bumblebee had just enough room to crouch down around the wires and chips. He’d likely have to move everything back into its previous place this time round. Maintenance would get suspicious if a human sized trail led to a ‘nest’ within the monitor. 

Bumblebee sat down amongst the delicate, crunchy metal. He rolled out a connector cable from one of his many pockets. His heart thumped faster in anticipation for the link up. It was never a pleasant feeling; his organic brain wasn’t made to download shit. The bio link also didn’t like interfacing with the non-sentient, alien devices. If plugged in too long, the parts would heat up to a dangerous degree. 

Biting the bullet, Bumblebee clicked the connector cable into the back of his neck. The almost dagger-like adaptor was a spare from his mecha. He waited a moment for it to properly align and the locking mechanisms to set in place. Bumblebee knew most pilots back on Earth hadn’t particularly cared about being fully mantled into their mecha before moving. Some didn’t need to. The moment Jazz was in the cockpit he seemed to be on the move. Command hated it, thinking the pilot was taking the risk of ghosting. 

Bumblebee didn’t believe the older pilot had been ghosting. He was just that in tune with his mecha. Something Bumblebee envied. Getting his mecha’s limbs to obey his inputs was always sluggish at first. It had frustrated Bumblebee to know end, making him feel like he had to prove his worth when he was the last to leave the hanger.

It seemed petty now. Bumblebee wished to go back to those simpler days. He’d eagerly help the maintenance crew go through a full check and reboot process on his mecha. Those could take up a whole shift. Bumblebee would just be in his mecha’s cockpit, plugged in making sure the damn machine wouldn’t explode as workers ran through every line of code. It’d give him a migraine afterward. When linked up, it felt like the maintenance team was rummaging through his head.

A younger version of Bumblebee would have been thrilled to learn he’d never have to go through the awful procedure again… only to realize that it was because no one was around to do them anymore.

Don’t think about that. Bumblebee scolded himself. He shook off his melancholy thoughts. He couldn’t reminisce now; distractions gained him unwanted attention.

Once the connector cable was in place, Bumblebee braced himself to enter the Quint monitor. He’d have to be quick. He already was thinking about the mental path he would take as he clicked the Quint adaptor into the port.

Bumblebee stiffened as his attention split in half for a moment before plunging his full consciousness into the computer. Immediately he became aware of the Quintesson manning the console. They didn’t actually plug into the monitor- only Spider-Medusa could do that, but they carried around these little AI control devices that did. They seemed to be pseudo-bonded to the AIs. The little bitches were testy, and Bumblebee stayed far away from the AI as it monitored space.

That was one reason why Bumblebee claimed this monitor. It was connected to the coordination systems of the ship. The Quints manning it were too busy looking over the scanners to realize that someone was sifting through the ship’s files and documents. 

Bumblebee immediately delved through the bits of foreign code. He’d download the information he was looking for and let his mecha translate it later. Although Bumblebee wasn’t fluent enough in Quint to know what they were saying when they spoke, he did know enough to understand their written language. He easily brought up the brig’s manifest. 

Spider-Medusa was a busy planet slaughterer and had tons of captives. However, not all were in the brig. Long term residents went to the cell block. However, Bumblebee would like to think he’d gotten to know his master well. The way she cooed at the mecha was how she cooed at her pets. Pets weren’t prisoners but slaves. She’d put this mecha in the brig for temporary containment before dressing him up in spiffy restraints.

Hopefully, Bumblebee could get to him before that could occur. He saw the armament on that mecha, almost as much as his mecha had. Out of all the specimens Spider-Medusa has collected, this one seemed the most prepared for battle.

It was a chance to escape. Although Bumblebee literally had nothing to live for (because everyone and everything he ever loved was gone and there was no way to get it back. His free will has been stripped along with his dignity and determination, forced to have self-preservation by his master’s slave codes in his head), he didn’t want to die on this alien ship. He didn’t want to die belonging to someone.

That was the only justice he could give Earth. That and slaying Spider-Medusa, and from the looks of it, the alien mecha seemed to be the key for both revenge and escape.

Once Bumblebee downloaded the brig’s manifest, he unplugged quickly and set on his journey back to his mecha. He had a lot to learn about his potential ally and very little time to scramble a plan together for them.

Chapter Text

Starscream raked his claws against his cell wall. He smirked when he heard the organics outside squirming at the sound.

This isn’t even a taste of the agony you’ll feel once I’m free. Moronic imbeciles. Starscream sneered in his mind. Already, he’d devised a few schemes on how to painfully kill and dispose of the Quints holding him hostage. He’s played out at least a dozen of them featuring a shrieking, fearful Anchor who finally learned her place. 

As Starscream got lost in his musings again, he was thoroughly unprepared for his collar to shock him to and back from the Allspark. Pits, he forgot he was even wearing the infernal thing. 

“Ahhhh!” Starscream cried out. First in surprise and pain, then it turned to screams of rage as the shocks ceased. He fell off the narrow berth in his cell, his sensitive wiring in his wing flaring when it hit the ground first.

A banging interrupted his furious raging. “Keep it down.” One of his infernal guards rumbled. “Mother gave us permission to silence you again if you don’t cease.” 

The murderous intent bubbled over in Starscream. Whenever his emotions got out of control, his base, instinctual coding took over. Glaring at the ugly technorganic, Starscream let out an angry hiss, wings flaring. His field flared out, showing his displeasure and indignation.

Too engrossed in his base coding, Starscream didn’t realize his guards were laughing at his antics. He got another zap, making Starscream make more feral Seeker noises. He curled into himself, instinctively reaching out to his trine bonds. He jolted when he didn’t get an answer. His spark whirled in distress at the vast void where the bonds were supposed to be.

Quieting down, Starscream turned inward, trying to calm himself down. He forgot how drastic his situation was. He’d been separated from the Decepticons after running into Autobots on a neutral outpost. That space station was likely rubble now. Starscream has no idea what occurred. However, he was getting ready to impale an Autobot’s spark when white light and pain exploded around him. He’d woken up on a pirate ship. The fools obviously weren’t prepared to deal with a Cybertronian. When they docked at a new outpost, Starscream easily fled, only for the Anchor’s damned pets to catch him.

Starscream didn’t even know if Skywarp and Thundercracker survived. For all he knew, they had deactivated in battle.

The thought alone made Starscream’s panic heighten. Warnings started popping up on his HUD, but he ignored them. He tried focusing on his bonds. He looked past the all-consuming void. Although he wasn’t certain, he believed the tethers were still in place. His trine was still out there… they had to be.

Your spark would have broken if they were gone. Starscream tried to reassure himself. However, he’d heard that distance sometimes warped perspective. He hadn’t given much thought about the ghost stories during his time in the academy, but looking back now, they were terrifying. One story depicted a trinemate being galaxies apart on an ambassador mission. He hadn’t even suspected something was wrong until he reached Cybertronian space again. The Seeker had dropped dead after his spark registered the broken bonds. 

Starscream shivered violently, huddling in on himself. That wasn’t happening to him right now. Skywarp and Thundercracker were safe. Well, as safe as they could be. They were probably on the Nemesis , looking for him. They weren’t ghost bonded to Starscream right now. They went through the revolution of Vos together, then the Cybertronian Civil War, escaping to the stars when Cybertron went dormant. Their trine was strong and united. Starscream would know if they were gone.

An unknown amount of time went by, Starscream reassuring himself that everything wasn’t fine , but it was adequate. He’d escape the damn Quints, burn everything to the ground, and join back with the Decepticons. Once he was in a stable position again, he’d take his rightful place as leader of the Decepticons. Megatron’s spark chamber would be a fine trophy once properly disinfected and polished.

“Psst, Cy!”

The small voice barely registered to Starscream’s audials. He glanced outside his cell. The guards had left, the lights had been dimmed. Apparently, it was time for recharge. There weren't many prisoners in this cell block, but Starscream could hear a disgusting snuffling, organic noise a few rows down. He decided to ignore it in favor of scheming.

“Cybertronian!” Another harsh whisper hissed out. Mmm, it seemed Starscream hadn’t imagined it.

Discreetly sitting up, Starscream fanned his wings out, searching. Although Seeker wings weren’t as sensor dense as their Praxian counterparts, they still allowed Starscream to scan with a sixth sense. Apparently, he had been damaged more than he thought because he could not locate the source of voice.

“Idiot.” The voice hissed. “I’m not actually there with you.”

Starscream snarled, looking around. “What do you want?”

“Same as you, I suspect.” The voice leered. “Getting off this ship and slaying some Quints along the way.” 

Wings flaring out was the only show of interest Starscream gave. He made sure to school his features, laying back on the berth slab in the cell. He’d learn long ago not to show all his cards. Too many mecha thought they could hold that as leverage over him. 

“Oh?” He said, optics lazily looking over the energy bars of his cell. “And I’m guessing you have some sort of ‘glorious’ plan to gain our freedom?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” The voice sneered, irritation brewing. Starscream fought the urge to smile. He did flare his field wide with his conceit. He doubted the creature could detect it, especially if he was ‘not actually there’ as he proclaimed. 

There was a thunk and crackle. Starscream raised an optic brow, looking up to the vents. He suspected he just located his potential partner in crime. Either the creature was extremely small and lying, or it had sent something in its stead to communicate. Intriguing either way. 

It was confirmed the noise was his potential accomplice when he started speaking again. “I’ve been here for a couple dozen orbital cycles.” The voice confessed, making Starscream’s interest grow, but not by much. ‘Orbital cycle’ was so vague. He could be counting any planet or moon’s rotation span. “I’ve mapped out the ship, timed the guard rotations, and know the Anchor’s schedule. I’ve also hacked into their systems, I can get the cells’ defenses deactivated and lead you to the hanger. I’ve got a ship ready for us to leave this hybrid scrapfest behind.”

“Hmmm.” Starscream mused, narrowing his optics in suspicion. “As intriguing as this ‘master plan’ of yours is,” Starscream put as much sarcasm into his glyphs, “if you’ve really been here this long, why haven’t you attempted your grand escapade yet? Why now, when you seem to have full control of this place?”

Starscream didn’t believe in handouts. Not even a shift into being in the Quintessons possession and his supposed freedom is already mapped out by another prisoner raring to go? If this was indeed a Quint trap, Starscream wasn’t impressed by it.

“I’m…” Some clanking and cursing, “I’m a little tied up at the moment, outside of the brig.”

“Oh?” Starscream said with a raised optical ridge. “And where are you being held?”

“In the menagerie.” The voice admitted. “If you stay long enough, you’ll probably end up there too. The Anchor likes to keep pets.”

Starscream sneered. “I am not some technorganic filth’s playtime doll.”

“Well, if you don’t take my offer, you’ll have no choice.”

The Seeker’s distaste grew. “So you release my chains, and I release yours, that’s the deal?”

“Yup, no strings.” The voice easily agreed. “We flee, blow the ship up, and go our separate ways when we reach the nearest neutral outpost or something.”

“Or something?” Starscream repeated. “My, don’t you have a way with glyphs.”

The voice growled, and it was honestly precious. Starscream looked toward the vent, pretty sure whoever was talking to him was actually tiny. Probably smaller than Soundwave’s symbionts. Adorable. 

“We have a deal or not, Cy?” The voice snapped.

Starscream hummed, pointedly bringing his servo up and tapping a digit to his chin guard, pondering. It got more delightful little noises from his companion. 

If his companion was really small enough to scurry in the vents, then why say he was stuck in this menagerie? He was hiding something, obviously. Maybe he really was a symbiont, and he was the only one from his cohort who was able to get away.

That being the case, then Starscream could surely use him. A host and cohort indebted to him would be a great boon. Depending on the skill set, they could keep Soundwave and his pests busy while he finally claimed his superiority over Megatron. He’d slay the warlord and take his rightful place as supreme leader of the Decepti-

“Is this dramatic pause really necessary?” The voice asked dryly.

“Well, I must thoroughly contemplate such a thrilling deal you’ve offered me.” Starscream claimed with a flick of his talons. “I mean, there’s so many options. Become a Quintesson’s leashed darling or go through with a mysterious mech’s haphazard plan for escape that could surely never go wrong-”

“Hey, it’s a decent plan!” The voice interrupted, properly offended.

“More like the bare struts of one.” Starscream said with a roll of his optics.

“That you know of.” The voice easily snapped. “I’m not going to tell you all the nitty gritty details until you accept. I’ve seen the other mongols the Anchor keeps. Why do you think I’ve had to wait for fresh me- er, scrap to come in? Those slaggers would rather kiss up to her than try to taste freedom.”

Starscream sneered at the imagery given to him before brushing it off, going back to seemingly unbothered. “Fine, fine.” He said with a few servo rolls. “You’ve made your point.”

A moment of silence. “... so?” The voice drawled.

“What? Are you waiting for a spark vow?” Starscream snapped, flaring his talons.

The voice has the gaul to smirk. “A yes or no would suffice.” 

Feeling dramatic, Starscream let out a groan and slumped against his narrow berth. It was a slightly painful gesture, pinching the hinges of one of his wings, but it got the point across. “Yes, alright, my fine business partner. Now, I simply cannot wait to hear this brilliant plan of yours.” 

Starscream bulked when his HUD lit up with a requesting ping. Wearily, he opened it to find a foreign comm frequency. He logged it before pinging his own. After proper greetings, he was given a file showing the ship’s schematics, guard rotations, and a servomade schedule that the Anchor assumingly followed. Beyond that, Starscream found the detailed plan the little symbiont had outlined. Primus, it even had bullet points , subsections for if something went wrong.

Am I sure I’m not talking to Prowl? Starscream wondered, peering up at the vent. Starscream had gleaned through the files their spies had managed to snag from his Autobot counterpart. Thousands of pages of dry and mundane glyphs illustrating a complicated and masterful strike. Starscream’s pretty sure Prowl was the only one to read through the whole thing. Perhaps Shockwave, but he had nothing better to do holed up in that glorified lab of his (which should belong to Starscream).

Humming his content, Starscream turned fully to the vent, showing that he knew someone was up there. “And what shall I call you, my mysterious partner-in-crime talking through the walls?”

The mech paused, seemingly shocked by the query.. “You can call me Bee.”

“B?” Starscream raised a brow, mulling the designation over. It was his turn to be shocked. “How simply barbaric of you.”

“Hey! That’s a standard name from where I’m from!”

Mmm, colony mech, then. Negative points for that. “Well, from where I’m from, such a short and common glyph means you’re worth less than dirt. I mean, seriously? No numbers or anything attached?”

“What difference does it make?” B sniped, a snarl in his voice.

“A good amount.” Starscream declared easily. He gazed at his talons, making sure no scratches or dents marred them. “Let’s say your true designation was… mm, B-127? This would be the designation you’d online with back on Cybertron. It would tell mecha which sector of our planet your frame had been forged, then the cycle your spark was placed in the spark chamber. See? Simple, true, maybe even a bit crude, but it does show a bit of class. At least giving your designation actual meaning .”

“That’s… stupid.” B revealed after thinking it over. Starscream felt his struts stiffen at the exclamation. “Exactly how many B-127s would there be then? Hundreds upon thousands of mecha with the same designation walking around? Oh my gods, I can’t imagine how many of your mecha get Imposter Syndrome or- I don’t know! Feel inferior in some way, being clumped all together with-”

“Ex cuse you?!” Starscream screeched. “I don’t know how your planet handles reproduction, but I can assure you that Cybertron is not overcrowding with hundreds of mecha with the same designation!”

 Starscream paused for a klik, taking in the thought of having that many newsparks around. It’d be… impossible. Even during the first Golden Age, sparks weren’t emerging at that rate. And if they had, it would mean nothing to present Cybertronians. There hadn’t been a newspark since… Starscream didn’t know. Early stages of the war. And there wouldn’t be any in the future.

The Seeker was broken from his thoughts when B spoke up again. “Okay, so there isn’t going to be as many ba- newsparks with the same name in just a year-”

Starscream felt his face plates scrunch up. What’s a year?

“-that doesn’t mean it's not going to add up. I mean, the system starts over every ye- er- vorn! Right? So, it’s just going to-”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Starscream said. “Just because our life cycles start with that type of designation, doesn’t mean we keep them.”

“... wait, what?” B exclaimed, clearly taken aback.

Starscream scoffed. What backwater does this mech come from? Every other mechanical alien species Starscream had the misfortune to come across knew some of the basics of Cybertronians. It was almost insulting he had to teach this one as something as simple as designations.

“Cybertronians get their secondary designations either when they find the one that calls to them or their peers give it to them when they’ve done or have some great accomplishment, deed, or ability.” Starscream snorted with a little smirk. “Well, ‘great’ being a vague term. Younglings don’t always know what should be considered great.”

“And I’m sure you’re the expert.” B said easily.

Starscream blinked up at the ceiling of his cell. “Well, yes.” He said, off centered. He wasn’t expecting B to suddenly become pleasant. Maybe he’s finally seeing my supremacy. Starscream thought, fluttering his wings. I mean it’s obvious he has to realize it eventually. Nobody- not even uneducated extraterrestrials- can be in my presence without seeing my glory! 

“Well, seeing how enlightened I now am-”

Starscream narrowed his optics as the sarcastic tone.

“-you’ll probably be thankful to know that my name isn't just the barbaric glyph of ‘B’.”

Starscream gave the vent a dumbfounded look. “Then why did you say that was your designation!” He screeched.

“Because it’s a nickname!”

“A what ?!”

“A nickname!” B repeated. The glyph still didn’t register as anything intelligible to Starscream. “It’s usually a shortened version of your full designation. Or… I don’t know, an inside joke or something.”

“Again with the ‘or something.’” Starscream muttered.

“Shut up!” 

Although Starscream cheered inside for getting his companion this riled up, he kept his composure. Afterall, B was the one who held the keys to his confinement.

“Very well.” Starscream conceded with a roll of his optics. “Perhaps you’d like to grant me your actual designation?”

B hesitated, and Starscream realized he might have stumbled across a cultural faux pas. He knew some planets revered the ‘true moniker’ or something just as stupid. It was intimate, apparently. 

Just as Starscream was trying to figure out a way to smooth things over, a soft sigh escaped B. “My full designation is Bumblebee.” He confided.

“Bumblebee.” Starscream repeated. The name was absolutely foreign to him. He mouths the designation again, his vocalizer going through the mechanisms of sounding it off. The Seeker wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

The silence on Bumblebee’s end told Starscream he was waiting for a proper reaction.

“Well,” Starscream said, not looking up at the vent, “I can see why you shortened it. It’s a horrid designation.”

His response got the wanted reaction. Bumblebee scoffed, the soft vulnerability from earlier falling away. “Whatever, Cy, just-”

“Don’t call me that!” Starscream hissed, just now realizing he’d never given Bumblebee his own name. That wouldn’t do. “My given designation is Prince Starscream of Vos! Second in Command of the Decepticons!” Starscream preened. Soon to be Supreme Leader of the Decepticons!

“...I’m sorry,” Bumblebee said, voice having an odd tone to it. Not the expected reaction. “Can you repeat that?”

“Are you illiterate?” Starscream sneered. “I am Prince Starscream of Vos! Sec-”

“Nope, it still sounded just as stupid as the first time you said it.” Bumblebee said, choking on laughter. “And you were giving me shit for my name. How can you even say that with so much pride? That’s the most ridiculous name I ever heard!”

“ Pardon! ” Starscream shrieked. “My designation is levels above your own! I rightfully earned it by showing my air superiority. I cut through the skies so gracefully and so swiftly that the air itself screamed in my wake.”

“So… shouldn’t it be Airshriek or something .” Bumblebee asked. Starscream’s wing twitched at the emphasized ‘or something.’ 

“Mmm, not bad.” Starscream claimed once he thought over his designation. “However, my designation symbolizes more than my aerial supremacy. It also represents my spark. I burned brighter than any supernova could ever hope to.”

“... okay,” was all Bumblebee said.

Irritation welled in Starscream’s spark at the response. He opened his intake to ridicule when Bumblebee suddenly spewed a lot of inelegant curses. “I have to go.” He quickly explained.

The anger dissipated from Starscream. He felt his energon freeze up for a klik at Bumblebee’s sudden frantic tone. “What’s happening?” He asked, sitting up properly. He turned to look out into the hallway. The disgusting technorganics hadn’t returned to harass him but that could change any minute. “Bumblebee.” Starscream demanded when the other didn’t immediately respond.

“It’s fine. Well, you're fine.” Bee finally bit out. “I just have to deal with… a thing.”

The Seeker narrowed his optics in suspicion. “If this is something that will hinder our escape, I have the right to know-”

“No! No.” Bee said, there was something scrambling noises from within the vent. “Give me a few cycles. I’ll ping you a breem before your cell’s security is disabled. Stick to the main egress pathway, I’ll be on the comms helping you evade guards to get to the menagerie.” 

The frantic glyphs did nothing to assuage Starscream. He stood up, feeling the urge to stand up on his berth and rip the little mech out of the vents and demand to know what’s going on. 

Before he could open his intake to get out a rant, Bee sighed harshly. “I’m being summoned, okay? The Anchor… likes me.” Bee grumbled. “However, I doubt she knows what’s going on. She doesn’t see threats of those deemed inferior to her. Even if I am caught, it won’t backfire on you.”

“Hmm.” Starscream said, wearily sitting back down. “Fine. What signal can I expect if the unfortunate does happen to you?”

“I don’t respond.” Bumblebee said simply. 

Affronted, Starscream went to speak, but realized that all the scrambling noises had stopped. He called out to Bumblebee and got nothing but silence.

Snarling at being so easily brushed aside, Starscream unfurled his talons and slashed at the wall. His lackluster effort got lackluster results. The metal was barely dented, but his tantrum did get the attention of the guards. They threatened to shock him again. Starscream ignored it, slumping down on his berth again.

Well, I’m thoroughly bored. He thought not even a breem in to simmering. He hadn’t realized how Bumblebee had filled the space with just his voice. For a moment, he forgot about his situation. That he was on an enemy ship away from reinforcements. That his trine may or may not be dead, and he himself was moments away from dying. 

Taking a vent, Starscream pulled up the log of his schemes. It took a while to settle back down into his plots of maiming and killing. However, now that he had Bumblebee’s thorough plan to leave this technorganic wreck behind, he could more properly find ways to realistically kill any Quints they came across.

As long as the little wretch doesn’t get himself deactivated. 

Chapter Text

Bumblebee grit his teeth, forcing himself to take calming breaths through his nose. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the forced pleasure coursing through his veins.

He wasn’t prepared for Spider-Medusa summons when he was talking to the Cybertronian. She didn’t hail him often. Whenever Bee had the displeasure of being in her presence, it was usually when he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. Then as punishment, she’d tote him around like those rich ladies in movies did with their little dogs. 

Come.

A groan escaped Bee as Spider-Medusa’s voice entered his mind. Reluctantly, he got up, making his way back to the menagerie. The pleasurable pulses of his collar intensified. Bee swallowed down a moan. Instead, he dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand. He barely felt anything due to his gloves, but it helped him continue forward.

Good pet. 

“Shut up.” Bumblebee growled. He eyed the vent wall, contemplating if he should stop and ram his head. Instead, he shook the thought away, continuing forward. It’d only make things worse. Spider-Medusa would see his progress halt and might try coaxing him forward with shocks. Or she might come hunting him down herself. Bee shuddered, best to just get her damn visit over with.

The rolling pleasure got worse the closer Bee got to the menagerie. It made his legs feel like rubber and made his fingers shake from the onslaught. If Spider-Medusa cranked it up another notch, Bee was going to pass out.

The pleasure Bee’s collar emitted in him wasn’t like anything he felt before. Back in his youth, Bee correlated pleasure with arousal. It pooled in his groin and sent random, flashing zings through his body. 

That kind of pleasure he hasn’t felt in a long time. Instead, the collar pulsed warmth throughout his veins. It reminded him of hot chocolate after playing in the snow, curling up under a warm blanket by the fireplace, only extremely intensified. He felt this comfort from his buzzing neural link to the tips of his fingers and toes. It left his skin tingling, made his muscles loose and relaxed. Bee felt like puddy, easily moldable. 

He hated how much he liked it. Humans were social creatures. Bee found out just how dangerous isolation could be for him in the first months of his capture. Although he was surrounded by other creatures, they were all hostile. And if they weren’t, the kind of attention they brought wasn’t what he was looking for. He longed for a comforting touch of another, to just be held and told everything would be alright. Bee was used to others making decisions for him. He wasn’t Jazz, easily adapting and making impulsive decisions. Obviously, since his hesitation led to-

A grimace left Bumblebee. He froze, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to force his memories back down. He had failed. The repercussions were severe. However, he could get justice. Revenge was just around the corner. He had to keep moving.

With this in mind, he continued. The pleasure his collar gave him stayed steady. Although he loathed the maker of the sensations, Bee couldn’t help but find comfort in them. It was the only serenity he’d find in this prison. Without the stimulation, Bee doubted he’d be more than a puppet or shell of himself for Spider-Medusa to manipulate to her will.

And he’d be damned if that were to happen… 

Finally, Bee arrived at the menagerie. He slipped out of the vents, wandering down the hall only the Keeper and his creator ever entered. This part of the ship was Spider-Medusa’s own little haven. Her rooms were just a few halls down. This particular hall led to a dead-end room where she ‘played’ with her pets. It was also where her preserved playthings were displayed. Bee had felt sick when he first saw the once living statues. They were glossy, caked in a foreign substance that made them immobile. They were frozen in time, never to move again. The process usually led to the pet being killed. 

If he stayed here long enough, Bee would be one of those statues. At any time, Spider-Medusa could decide their play period was over and preserve him. His own damn neural link would be turned against him. Spider-Medusa would take control of his body and get him into whatever position she deemed ‘perfect’ for preservation. Then he’d have to watch as the chilled substance enveloped him. It’d be poured into his mouth, filling out his digestive system so he wouldn’t rot and decay, effectively killing him.

Bee knew this because Spider-Medusa had gone into graphic detail. She’d made Bumblebee watch the ‘performance’ of preservation of another of her pets. It was nauseating. The organic creature didn’t have a mechanical neural link like Bee, so it was fitted with a gag. The clear, thick goop they used for preservation was force fed into the animal. It thrashed against its restraints. However, there was no escape. Death was inevitable.

Once it was basically half dead, only able to twitch, Spider-Medusa had stepped forward. She cooed- as if she cared, manipulating the poor creature's limps into the position she wanted before painting the outer coat onto the beast’s scales. All the while she hummed and sang, like she was tucking in a toddler for bed. She left the now deceased organic to dry, turning her full attention to Bee. 

This is the fate of all my pets. Behave, and you may make it your full life span before having to endure the process. Do you understand?

Any thoughts of rebellion had fled Bumblebee at that time. He willingly put himself through Spider-Medusa’s humiliating training. It took some time before Bee felt comfortable enough to start pushing boundaries, the threat of preservation always looming. It made it even more essential that his first escape attempt be his last.

These Cybertronians better be as good as everyone says. Bee thought. 

The Cy- Starscream - as he claimed- was an ass. Bumblebee didn’t know if his whole kind were pricks or if he just got stuck with an outlier. Either way, he knew the mechanical being was going to be hard to work with. Hopefully, it would all be worth it. Although most of his systems were shut down by the collar Spider-Medusa outfitted them all with, Bee was able to get some rudimentary scans of the alien. He had some nice weaponry on him. Not completely outfitted, but again, this was a sentient being Bumblebee was dealing with, not a mecha. 

The claws Starscream was proud of showing off could easily cut through the restraints holding Bee’s mecha down… probably. Hopefully.

Walking down the hall, Bee ignored the titters coming from cage windows and locked rooms. The size of an enclosure depended on the size and temperament of Spider-Medusa’s pets. Some small, non-sentient ones only got a little glass case that the Quintesson would peer through when she needed to be amused. The bigger animals would get whole rooms. However, these usually had more security measures since they could actually do some harm to crew members. Bee once caught a glimpse of what looked like a dragon-dinosaur thing swimming in a huge pool. The thing had been bigger than Spider-Medusa and his mecha combined.

For sentient creatures, the rules of enclosures changed to fit the individual. Although Bee was technically able to fit inside of the glass enclosures Spider-Medusa had lining the hall, she had upgraded him to an actual room for a few reasons. 

One: because of his mecha. Spider-Medusa saw them as a match set and didn’t want them separated. Which Bumblebee was thankful for. Although his time within his mecha was heavily monitored and he could only be in it for a short amount of time, it was the only thing familiar to Bee on this weird, alien ship.

Two: sentients actually seemed to gain some sort of respect from Spider-Medusa. She saw them as individuals. Inferior, of course, but she recognized that they’d have their own thoughts and emotions. Although she usually stomped all over any of their desires, she knew how to manipulate their wants to her will. With Bee, she knew range and freedom was what he craved. After she deemed him a well-trained pet, she granted him that, completely surprising Bumblebee.

Bee stopped his wandering once he was almost to the playroom. His room was deep into the menagerie, and he was likely to never be relocated. He glared at the ornate door. Its lock was synced to his neural link code, and after his training found himself able to leave and return as he pleased… most of the time, anyway. On occasion, Spider-Medusa has quarantined him in the room when he has gotten sick or ‘needed’ punishment. 

It’s fine. Bumblebee thought around the buzzing pleasure invading his system. You haven’t done anything wrong that she knows of. You’re not being locked in.

Bee couldn’t help but glance over to the playroom. Or preserved.

Taking a deep breath, Bee pinged the door. His request had it flying open, allowing him to enter his quarters. 

For Quintessons, the room was a quaint size, probably would have been given to a somewhat respected member of the crew had Spider-Medusa not picked up her hobby. It was dimly lit. Everything here had weak lighting. Most Spider-Medusa’s children hated bright lights (which Bumblebee would be using to his advantage in the near future). 

The room probably used to house a console or some other technology by the discoloration of the walls. When Bee first got here it was plainly decorated in some dissimilarity to Earthen style military barracks. But any sort of effort Spider-Medusa gave Bee to feel at ‘home’ was quickly scrapped when the human started meddling. Spider-Medusa wasn’t keen on giving Bee ammo when he was supposed to be grounded.

There were only three major objects in the room. Off on the left wall laid a table high off the ground, fit for the Keeper and Spider-Medusa to use. However, Bee would never be able to reach the surface or cabinets that hung above without aid. He’d come to know that area as the operating zone. When the Keeper managed to get his claws on Bee, he’d position him on the table for exams. The cabinets held medical supplies and Bee’s treatment meals. 

That stuff Spider-Medusa had plagued his mecha with has become a staple in Bee’s life. Over the years, the formula has been tweaked slightly to meet all of Bee’s needs. Although he loathed to admit it, the human begrudgingly admitted that it fucking worked. Earth had been slowly dying with the Quints constant attacks. It left resources low and all troops on strict rations. Even mecha pilots. Bee went hungry for most of his childhood.

He couldn’t say the same for here. Bee never starved, even when he was being punished. It didn’t make him despise mealtimes any less. He was just thankful that the alien liquid was filling enough to lengthen the time he needed to eat. Three meals a day now stretched to once a week (Bee thought, his mecha’s clock had glitched out when that infernal collar had been locked onto it. Bee has been going off the ship’s day and night cycles which likely didn’t follow Earthen time). 

The main attraction in the room was the cradle for his mecha. It secured Earth’s most advanced technology to the furthest wall. Some spotlights showed off the scratched, battle-torn metal locked down in gleaming restraints. Manacles went around the mecha’s wrists and ankles. The small, middle segment of its three-segment legs that acted as knees were heavily locked down in metal and energy bars. Those restraints also wrapped around the shoulders and waist. Then smaller cabling wove throughout the mecha’s struts, thoroughly immobilizing it. However, Spider-Medusa mercifully kept the armor around his pilot cabin exposed. With the collar slabbed on his mecha, all Spider-Medusa needed was to input a code to completely lock Bee out of the controls. So no restraints were necessary to keep Bee in or out of his mecha.

It was a depressing sight to see his mecha so thoroughly bolted down. All it was now was a pretty decoration. Bee hasn’t been allowed to truly pilot it since his capture. It hasn’t left that space. Although the Keeper seemed to do some sort of maintenance, Bee knows the mecha has to have deteriorated after being immobile for half a decade. 

Hopefully it wasn’t so bad that I can’t run. Bee thought grimly. However, he knew it was likely he might not even be able to walk in this state. If so, he’d give Starscream a chance to flee before initiating the kill switch. That combined with the little surprises he’d left throughout the ship, would surely kill Spider-Medusa and her children.

Bee would not- could not - fail a second time.

Lastly, a huge throne-like chair had been dragged into the room. It faced away from the door off to the right, angled toward the mecha. Currently, Bee’s Master occupied the throne. She was looking over Bee’s mecha like it was an art piece. Her tentacles laid around her like a cape and gown, slightly twitching (reaching). Her “hair” of cable tentacles reached toward the ceiling, a constant connection between her and the ship.

Swallowing down bile, Bumblebee cleared his throat. Spider-Medusa turned away from his mecha to him. Bumblebee immediately turned his gaze to his feet.

“Master,” he murmured out submissively.

“Pet!” Spider-Medusa rejoiced, her cheer making Bee’s resentment grow. “Come! It’s been too long since we’ve played.”

Bee felt his collar pulse more pleasure through his nervous system. He nodded while inside he seethed, reluctantly walking toward Spider-Medusa.

Good pet , brushed through the neural link.

Tentacles reached toward Bumblebee. He eyed them, tensing reflexively. Every instinct in him screamed to flee from the huge predator before him. However, when they actually touched his person he relaxed his muscles, leaning into their caress.

Spider-Medusa hummed in approval, the pulsing pleasure racing through Bee keeping steady. Although he loathed to admit it, Spider-Medusa knew how to handle her pets. She’d collected many over the years, as seen by her menagerie and preserved. She’d domesticated all sorts of species, from instinct-driven animals to sentient beings. Although he’d much rather scurry away somewhere Spider-Medusa could never touch him again, he’s learned that he was never not within her grasp with the weird psychic bond she had with the ship.

So Bee conceded to Spider-Medusa’s training. He tried his hardest to learn what made her happy. Bending to her wants led him to having more freedom. He became the perfect pet in her presence, only to meddle when she looked away. Bee knew he was one of her favored pets. He doubted just anyone got away with the stunts he pulled. 

“I hear you’ve been causing a ruckus again.” Spider-Medusa commented, her tentacles continued to slowly wind around Bumblebee’s body. The slimy mucus they created started to stick to his suit. Bee flinched slightly when one of her thinnest tentacles wrapped around his neck before running through the locks of his hair. “This time it was the lights. I had reports that it affected the whole ship. How naughty of you.”

The blinding pleasure suddenly turned off. A sharper buzz went through Bumblebee’s system, and the human couldn’t help the whine that escaped his lips. His heart thundered in his chest when Spider-Medusa gave his limbs a dull squeeze.

“Yes, Master.” He managed to rasp out. The tentacle and collar around his throat were too restricting. His vision started to spot. “I-I’m sor-ry, Master. I didn’t know what I was d-doing. It won’t happen again! I s-swear!”

Bumblebee gritted his teeth against the tightening tentacles. The uncomfortable buzzing that echoed through his nervous system didn’t help. Squeezing his eyes close, Bee forced himself to relax against the onslaught, leaning into Spider-Medusa’s touches. He bore the pain for excruciating seconds before it relented. Bee couldn’t stop himself from heaving out a sigh of relief as the tentacle around his neck loosened. He became dead weight in Spider-Medusa’s hold as silence permeated his limbs, no pleasure or pain to drown in.

Spider-Medusa chuckled, the sound reverberating through Bee’s body. He felt her tentacles curl around him a little more before he was lifted up. He felt them envelope him a little more before he was lifted up. Bee went limp in her hold, the pleasure that had dimmed to a low pulse raised once more at the submission.

Spider-Medusa brought Bee level with her head as she looked over his much smaller form. Her weird, technoganic eyes skimmed him over before she smiled sweetly with a tilt of her head, the cables connecting her to the ship flexing.

“I don’t believe you,” she cooed. A thrill of fear raced through Bumblebee at the bubbly declaration. It rose when Spider-Medusa fully engulfed him in her tentacles, making a whimper itch at his throat.

Bee felt Spider-Medusa rise from her observing chair and glide across the room. Bee fought to keep the panic away. He was hyper aware of the direction they were heading. She couldn’t leave his room. They weren’t heading toward the doors. His failings weren’t worth preserving early. He was fine. He’d be fine. Everything had to be-

Working through the anxiety, Bee forced logic back into his thoughts. Because of her dress of tentacles, it was easy to tell when Spider-Medusa turned. She barely swirled when getting out of her chair. Therefore, she couldn’t be heading for the door. It still took a huge effort for Bumblebee to continue breathing, even when it was clear Spider-Medusa was heading for the operating table. It didn’t help that squeezing and slimy tentacles completely enveloped Bee’s entire form.

“Shhh,” Spider-Medusa suddenly said, the tentacles easing their hold and placing Bee on the table. A couple still had a light hold on Bee. However, most curled away to lay in their proper position. “Relax, Pet. Nothings going to happen.”

The pleasure emitting from Bee’s neural link finally ceased completely. In its place was a soothing pulse of calm. Bee worked with it, completely submitting to Spider-Medusa.

“Forgive me.” Bee said in a small voice once he calmed down enough, bowing his head slightly to his master. Any thoughts of escape were pushed aside for a moment. The anger and hatred brushed off to the side. Survival was more important right now. 

One of the remaining tentacles on Bumblebee slowly wrapped around his waist, forcing him to stay in place. It snaked up his back to rub in between his shoulder blades. Bee barely held back his shudders.

“I will… this time.” Spider-Medusa warned in a cryptic tone. With a smirk, she leaned forward. The tip of her talon went under Bee’s chin and gently lifted it, so their eyes met. “You are one of my more curious pets, Bumblebee.” It took everything in Bee to not react to Spider-Medusa saying his name. “Although I usually discourage that kind of behavior, I see some great…” Spider-Medusa tilted her head as she looked Bee over, “ potential in you.”

With that statement, Spider-Medusa went over to the cabinet at the end of the table, rummaging through it. One of her tentacles continued to rest across Bee’s lap, warding off any drastic behavior from Bee. The human grimaced roughly when he realized Spider-Medusa was preparing him his “meal” but wisely didn’t say anything.

“I allow you privileges none of my other pets will ever be able to claim. You can leave your enclosure at will and roam my ship when you please. As long as you heed my commands, I will continue to allow this. I believe it is quite educational.

“I know you have learned my children’s schedules. I know you have mapped out my ship and its ventilation system. I know you have surpassed the firewalls to worm your way into my ship’s database and manifest. I know you have memorized my schedule so you can meddle somewhere I am not as likely to… ‘find out’.” 

Spider-Medusa casually glanced over from where she was filling a bottle with Bumblebee’s treatment, smugly smiling at the fearful shock plastered on the human’s face. Bee felt like someone had just poured ice down his suit. Still, he tried to keep his reaction mellow and controlled. Mecha pilot training has helped Bee more than he ever thought it would. Their breathing exercises were a lifesaver right now. 

Although Spider-Medusa seemed to know a damning amount on Bee, she hadn’t brought up Starscream. Bee doubted she’d be oozing in that condescending tone right now if she had heard their bickering negotiation from earlier. 

Spider-Medusa finished filling the bottle, capping the lid before putting the ingredients of Bumblebee’s meal back. She then made her way back over to Bee, looming over him as she entwined her some of her tentacles around his body once more. One forced his head to stay still so their eyes met. 

“You would do well to remember, Pet.” Spider-Medusa said seriously, “that you are on my ship. Nothing stays a secret for long. Privacy is a privilege you are not privy to, even as my prized trophy. Understand?”

Bumblebee swallowed hard, intimately aware of the tentacles wrapped around him. They felt more like chains at the moment. He managed to nod around her hold, lowering his gaze. “Yes, Master.”

Spider-Medusa stayed silent, giving Bee a hard look over before her features softened. “Good.” She cooed before allowing Bee control of his head once more. However, the tentacle moved to lounge heavily over his shoulders while the others tightened their hold slightly.

“Now, onto business.” Spider-Medusa declared, holding up the bottle of alien liquid.

With the supplements Bee “needed” to stay healthy added to the mixture, it came out as a neon pink that glowed. Bee side eyed it warily, a snarl maring his features. Feeding time was always the most dreaded part of Bee’s schedule.

“Come now, Pet.” Spider-Medusa chided with a click of her tongue. “You either take it from my hand or you climb into that machine of yours and I administer your meal through your feeding port. Either way, I will be upholding my responsibility to care for my little exotic organic.”

Bee winced, noting she was right. Through training, Bee had rather quickly realized that Spider-Medusa didn’t take no for an answer, especially from fussy pets. She took their care seriously, even if she seemed to lack regard for emotional trauma. 

Glancing over at his securely locked down mecha, Bee already knew which one he would choose. Although he’d much rather not have Spider-Medusa hand feed him, his mecha was his sanctuary. It was the only place he felt relatively safe now and his best chance at escaping (not to mention, it was literally created to kill Quintessons, which would come in handy for getting revenge against them). Bee didn’t want his feeling of security ruined by feeding time. Spider-Medusa had already messed with his mecha too much for his liking already.

Bowing his head, Bee made fists in frustration before relaxing, slumping in Spider-Medusa’s hold. Cheeks flushing, he mumbled, “This pet would be grateful and honored to be fed by his master’s hand.” 

Spider-Medusa cooed, her tentacles slowly coiling more securely around Bee like a snake constricting its prey. “Anything for my darlings.” The Anchor replied sweetly, bringing up the bottle’s tip to Bee’s lips. 

The lid of the bottle was a weird mixture between a sippy cup and straw. Bee tried not to think about it too much as he leaned forward and brought the tip between his lips. Immediately, the humiliation in him grew. It felt infantilized as he sipped down the bile-tasting liquid. He closed his eyes in shame, trying to block out Spider-Medusa’s encouragement.

Any mental blocks that thinly veiled his reality were shattered when Spider-Medusa hummed satisfyingly when she placed the pad of her finger to Bee’s throat. Her sharp talon wasn’t even an inch away from his skin. He winced, trying to back away. However, the Quintesson merely followed him with both finger and bottle. The humiliation grew steadily as Spider-Medusa started to tip the bottle higher, so Bee didn’t have to work as hard getting the last of the liquid down.

“Good, Pet.” Spider-Medusa praised. Her tentacles started to rub “soothingly” over his limbs. Bee has never been more thankful for the thick padding of his pilot armor. He barely felt the sickly-sweet gesture. However, it only seemed to make him fixate on it even more. 

“Isn’t this nice?” Spider-Medusa suddenly asked. Bee could only open his eyes and look up at her questioningly. The bottle still held a fourth of the liquid inside it. Spider-Medusa tilted it up higher again, making Bee tilt with her, exposing more of his neck. 

“From what I’ve observed, you humans seemed to be a submissive species. You looked toward the rare dominants of your kind desperately for aid when my scouts first showed up. I knew it was imperative that I dismantled your governments right away. It was almost laughable how easy you fell afterward.

“Although you put up a good fight, Pet- and still must cause some mischief here and there- you fall easily in line when I yank on your leash.” Spider-Medusa claimed. His neural link suddenly came to life, the buzzing pleasure building up again. Bee choked, making a desperate noise, but Spider-Medusa easily shushed him. “You try so hard to push against your nature, but you can’t hide from it, Pet. In the end, you must obey. It’s not just for my own pleasure, but it’s for your greater wellbeing . ”

Bee tried to ignore the soothing words, but it was hard when they were echoing down his neural link. Spider-Medusa’s presence was enveloping him, forcing him down . 

Submit . 

Trembling, Bee tried. He didn’t exactly understand what Spider-Medusa wanted. He was obeying! He was drinking from her hand. He was allowing her to touch him however she pleased. He even let her pass his mental blocks (not like it was hard to bypass them, stupid organic brain). 

Submit. 

More like break. Bee thought bitterly, and he refused to do that. Not just because he was being stubborn, but because he didn’t deserve it. Breaking… submitting- whatever Spider-Medusa had cooked up inside her head for him!- was too easy. All he’d have to do was let go, and he’d be hers for the rest of his life. And honestly? It didn’t seem half bad. It was much better than the apocalyptic world he had been born into. He was safe. He was healthy. And he was well fed. More than he could say for most of his life wondering if this day would be his last. All he had to worry about was pleasing his master and his inevitable death by preservation. 

It could be good. All he had to do was submit .

And that in itself was terrifying.

Bee couldn’t give up. Not to Spider-Medusa, no matter how much he wanted to. It was pathetic, really. When he first got here, he was filled with magma rage that threatened to explode around him. Revenge fueled him. He was a being made solely by that now. Bee had nothing else to live for. He didn’t need (or want, he couldn’t want) to feel good. His life was over once he got justice for Earth. 

He let them fall. He hesitated to kill Spider-Medusa when he was first captured. He was not going to fail again.

So he wouldn’t submit. He wouldn’t break. He would just… endure. Yes, endure . 

Spider-Medusa kept talking, but Bee finally managed to block her out. The key was to not be a wall, but to be smoke. Anything his master threw at him would just phrase through him. 

He’d suffer her visit this final time. Then when everything was in place. He’d get in his mecha, hack into the ship, lead Starscream to him. The annoying alien would break his bonds; they’d blow this place up. Then…

Then it’d be over. Bee would have won.

All he has to do is:

Endure.

Chapter Text

A disabling hiss brought Starscream’s processors into standby. They came online fully when he registered a sharp, unlocking click. Optics flickering on, Starscream felt the heavy weight around his neck distribute lopsidedly. He sat up abruptly, talons coming up to his neck cabling. By then, the collar had already slipped free and into his waiting servos.

Starscream stared, dumbfounded for a moment. It took a klik for his processors to finish rebooting before a triumphant grin spread across his faceplates.

Stupid technorganics. He thought, lazily throwing away the collar. He got up, wings flaring out proudly. He strolled over confidently to the entrance of his cell. He gazed out over the darkened brig. You will soon fall to the might of your superiors.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, that unfamiliar ping contacted him. Starscream secured the comm line, looking over his talons. “Good to hear that you aren’t dead, Bee.” Starscream purred.

::Take a left.:: Bumblebee said abruptly. It startled Starscream. Not even a klik after the instructions came, the energy barrier holding Starscream in the cramped cell deactivated. 

Shaking off his stupor, Starscream swaggered out of the cell, going to the left. “It seems you prevailed over the Anchor. I’m sure congratulations are in or-”

::I don’t want to talk about it.:: Bee snapped. ::Up ahead should be the exit to the brig. There are two guards on duty on the other side.::

Starscream took in the reinforced doors, ignoring the sniffling sounds of organic and technorganic beasts around him. He narrowed his optics, reconfiguring to thermal imaging. Two big blobs were on the other side of the door, along with snaking lines around the top and bottom. Starscream shivered, he forgot the ship was also alive.

“I can confirm the guards.” Starscream said casually. He crossed his arms and glared at the doors. “What’s your plan on getting rid of them?”

::I’m connected to the ship’s systems.:: Bee confessed. ::It’ll turn a blind optic when you’re in the area. I believe those on guard duty are S-9s.:: 

Before Starscream could ask what the frag those were, Bee pinged over a file. Starscream skimmed through it, impressed. It seemed Bee had given every type of Quintesson on the ship a numbered designation. Scouts, warriors, hunters, and some other grunts that were usually used for planetary invasions were given the glyph ‘C’ and the numbers 1 through 5. The onboard personnel were given ‘S’ glyphs. The Anchor then got the designation S-M. 

It was simple but constructed. Starscream would admit he’d rather use these than properly vocalize the creatures’ true names. However, something felt off about the designations…

“Are you mocking me?” Starscream blurted out, scandalized. He looked up, glaring at the vent system. He just knew the little symbiote was probably scurrying through it right now.

::What?!:: Bee asked. If he was bluffing, Starscream had to admit he was good at it. Bee seemed just as shocked as Starscream. He acted confused, sputtering. ::I- no! What even-::

“The designations. Remember I gave you a whole history lesson not even a stellar-cycle ago?” Starscream hissed. “‘S-9’? Seriously? Single digit designations aren’t even a thing! We start at 100 because-”

::Wait, wait!:: Bee interrupted. ::Hold on. As excited as I am to get another Cybertronian history lesson, I-I’m not mocking you! This has nothing to do with our conversation. These were just the names that my species- you know what? Forget it, we’re wasting time. I’m going to flash bomb the guards. Be ready to kill them.::

Starscream opened his mouth to protest when a loud bang erupted on the other side of the door. Startled, the Seeker reflexively onlined his battle protocols. He got into a fighting stance, null rays at the ready as the doors started to slide open. 

The damage made by the flash bomb wasn’t significant. There were a few scorch marks and some pieces of shrapnel stuck in the walls, but the area was still largely intact.

Except the thick hunks of blended metal and flesh on the floor seemed to have taken to the extreme light poorly. Hurt clicks and whines escaped their withering masses. Starscream sneered, getting out of his defensive stance. He casually walked over, glaring down in disgust as the forms.

Such creatures don’t even deserve ammunition. Starscream thought, looking them over as he powered down his guns. Honestly, Quintessons were getting sloppy with their vile beasts. Starscream remembered a time where he used to be fascinated with technorganics. It seemed like magic to be able to blend the two forms of life together. 

He remembered wanting to create one once. When Cybertron was once in its “Second Golden Age” there had been a team that went to an organic planet. Its second extinction event was starting. A new element had been exposed to the planet by tourists. Since it wasn’t natural but foreign exposure, the UAIS had demanded action. The perpetrators lost trading rights in the sector. Cybertronians had swooped in and claimed the planet a territory. It would be their responsibility to keep the planet thriving. This meant they could meddle as much as they wanted without repercussions.

Oh, the science community had been exhilarated to be given such a big boon. So many teams were sent to the planet to study life before it inevitably all died out and started over again. It was during this research that an idea was formed.

Starscream didn’t remember all the details. Something something opportunity something something blah blah. Basically ‘let’s make the primary organic species technorganic!’ 

The idea was approved after a lot of arguing and debate. Half the planet was allowed to naturally die off and restart while the other half was given to this team led by Perceptor, if Starscream was remembering correctly. They started introducing cybernetic prosthetics to the population. Slowly but surely coaxing their DNA to merge with the nanites so they’d become dependent on mechanical biology.

Oh, it seemed ingenious. Starscream remembered getting a God complex, dreaming of the cycle he graduated so he might participate on the assignment. He even researched! Organics were finicky creatures. The dominant species wouldn’t survive long without the oh so special food web. Starscream looked up the different prey animals on the planet. Then redesigning them into technorganics on a sketch pad. 

Alas, it was never meant to be. Idiotic Functionalism got in the way. His application was rejected. Disappointed but stubborn, Starscream continued to submit applications to various projects until he finally was able to land a scouting mission for not just himself but also Skyfire…

Then that stupid blizzard. Then Skyfire’s signal went offline. Then returning to Cybertron and…

Well, it just wasn’t meant to be.

The thing was, Starscream’s technorganic designs were ingenious. The Quintessons designs however were barely functional. Starscream knelt down, poking the S-9. His field flared in disgust as the sludgy texture. A quick scan showed that the creature was mostly organic with some mechanical features slapped in random places. It seemed they had made the organic half dependent on the mechanical features. However, the same couldn’t be said in reverse. It wasn’t true symbiosis. Therefore, the creatures were merely bionics and not technorganics.  

While they have the potential to evolve into a technorganic, Starscream doubted the Anchor cared enough to allow it. The only “care” put into the creature was its processor. The nanites actually worked with the organic cells, becoming dependent on them for some functions.

Curious, Starscream unsubspaced a dagger before slicing off half the creature’s head. Revoltingly, the body still squirmed even as organic juices leaked from the remains and wires sparked. Metal and flesh molded together in a way that one couldn’t work without the other. Still, the processor was small. Starscream would have been surprised if the creature could even-

::Would you hurry up?:: Bee suddenly snapped over the comm. “In case you forgot, we’re on the clock.”

“I’m getting there.” Starscream said snidely. He stood and pointed his null ray at the other guard. Not even looking where he aimed, Starscream fired. The S-9 went down with a satisfying grunt. Wherever Starscream hit him seemed to make the technorganic truly dead, stopping any squirming. “Where to, my glorious companion?”

::Straight ahead of you.:: Bee replied tersely. 

“Why of course!” Starscream conceded. He stepped over the still squirming guard. It’d probably die in a breem anyway. Starscream didn’t even give it a wing flick as he strolled away.

Although Starscream would have liked to taunt his newest partner, he realized that sneaking through Quint territory probably wasn’t the best time. So the Seeker stayed silent as he slunk through the corridors. Bee also didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. Whatever interaction he had with the Anchor made him clamp up. The only things Starscream could hear was the occasional groan of the ship, gurling clicks of nearby technorganics, and Bee’s occasional terse directions. 

::You’re nearing S-M’s inner sanctum.:: Bee declared as Starscream turned into a main corridor. His wing’s flared out in search of any movement around him. The Seeker opticked a nearby vent hatch. So far, he hadn’t heard Bee scurrying around like he did last night, but Starscream was certain the little symbiote had to be tailing him. ::There are guards that you will have to take out at the entry. However, S-M doesn’t like more than a few select individuals in her domain, so you should be fine.::

“Where is S-M?” Starscream demanded. He slinked into the shadows of the upcoming corridor, he could see the bastard creations he needed to slay. He pulled out another energon dagger, this one about the length of his forearm.

::She is manning the bridge currently.:: Bee said smoothly. ::I believe she is in a meeting with Quintessa’s High Command.:: A dry chuckle escaped over the comms. ::I thought it was fitting that we would be escaping this cycle. S-M is known to brag about her exploits, and how she maintains the most orderly ship in the empire.::

Starscream emitted a hum, a smirk coming across his face plates as he shared Bee’s malicious pleasure. “It indeed will be satisfying to see her reaction as her entire empire falls around her as her superiors watch. Then when she is at her lowest, seething and in despair, I will unleash all the-”

::We’re in a time crunch, monologue later.:: Bee chastised. 

“Don’t interrupt me!” Starscream immediately snapped back.

::We’re a breem behind schedule. I’ve blocked off communications and surveillance in this sector. Kill the guards, act out whatever revenge you want on S-M on them. I don’t care, just make it quick.::

Starscream snarled, grumbling curses at Bee under his vents. Nonetheless, he obeyed (for now, but the little scoundrel would soon learn who’s in charge). Leaping around the corner, Starscream online his null rays and fired. The two shots hit home. The screeches of the dying technorganics were music to Starscream’s audials, but it wasn’t enough.

Surging forward, Starscream stabbed one of the S-9s through its core. The agonized screech went up a pitch before it gurgled out. A triumphant smirk escaped Starscream, his field flared in satisfaction. However, his malicious joy quickly wilted away at the sight of the organic fluid dripping from the guard's mouth.

Revolting. He thought as the organic parts slid away from his sword. The whole creature seemed to melt before him, leaving the bionics Starscream stabbed through to spark on his blade. One of the many downsides of these filthy creatures. Starscream was honestly thankful he was never emitted into their field of study, who knows what kind of mech he’d become. 

Starscream ripped the sparking bionic off his blade before strutting forward. The doors gilded open for him, showing off a dimly lit hall. It was sleek and grand, in an archaic sort of way. The ship was mostly bare bones, the organic side of it making it seem more sophisticated and complex than it really was. The halls arched slightly, Starscream could make out the bones flushed against a membrane at the top. Some parts of its nerve system showed through, stretching down from ceiling to floor. They pulsed sluggishly in the dim light created by electric torches.

“What even is the point of these?” Starscream muttered, picking one up from its mantle. The artificial light was trapped under glass sculpted to look like flames. Starscream flicked a claw tip against it, the glass immediately gained deep cracks. Raising an optic ridge, Starscream scoffed. “Cheap, just like everything in this empire.”

::Time is tick, tick, ticking.:: Bee drawled over the comms.

“Oh, go chew on your exhaust.” Starscream sneered, throwing the broken torch behind him. His wing twitched at the satisfying waves produced from it being completely shattered. “I was waiting for my tour guide to give me more instructions.” 

Bee made a grunt in acknowledgement before going silent.

Starscream waited a klik. Then another. Irritation started to brew at that point. 

Petty little symbiont. Starscream scoffed with narrowed optics, he opened his intake to verbally berate the smaller mechanism when the comm crackled to life again.

::The second door on the left leads to the menagerie. My enclosure is also on the left, last door before the dead end… brace yourself.::

Starscream scoffed loudly, going down to the door. He didn’t even have to pause to wait for the door to slide open. However, Starscream did baulk at the overwhelming aroma that hit him. “Ugh, disgusting biotics.” Starscream muttered, he bravely entered the new hallway after turning down his olfactory settings. Although the smell did become bearable, the humid environments and organic chirps couldn’t delude him to what lurked behind the doors and windows. 

Strutting down the hall, Starscream mostly ignored any movement or noise coming from around him. Although the creatures did interest him- the Anchor likely gained all her specimens from the worlds she conquered and destroyed, leaving these pets to be the last of their kind- only one of them was of any real concern. The trinkets would soon be dead, anyway, Starscream wasn’t leaving any witnesses on this hideous technorganic wreck. Besides, they all seemed to be loyalists if Bee had to wait for Starscream of all mechs to get some aid. 

From what Starscream gathered, S-M had given each pet a space that they needed to survive, and little else. No luxuries needed for lower lifeforms, after all. It made Starscream curious when he reached the door Bee had directed him to. It was about two helm’s shorter than Starscream (perfect height for the Anchor to walk through and little else). It made him concerned about what would meet him on the other side. Host mechs- at least Soundwave- towered over others. Their chassis needed to be bigger so they could accommodate their cohort. This doorway wouldn’t fit them…

But maybe that was by design. From experience, Starscream could say symbionts were slippery vermin. No matter what chains, cage, or trap they stumbled upon, they somehow always managed to escape it. S-M would have had a pit of the time securing all the little gremlins (the very thought put a smile to Starscream’s faceplates). However, if their host was unable to leave, the little ones wouldn’t be going far. 

Starscream waited for a klik. And another. Then an entire breem , but the door remained closed. He tapped his ped impatiently, wings flicking. 

What is taking him so long?

“I have arrived, valiant comrade!” Starscream declared. “If you would be so inclined as to-”

::SHUT UP!::

Starscream baulked, not expecting Bee to scream. His glyphs were half put together and frantic. As he registered the slight fear in Bee’s voice, Starscream felt his own spark pulse faster before Bee sighed heavily over the comms.

::Sorry,:: he said softly, throwing Starscream again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone actually apologized to him. ::It’s just… we need to leave. Soon.::

Starscream stayed silent for a moment. He opened his intake, going to say something but stopped. The outburst and apology left him feeling unbalanced. Disliking the sensation, Starscream shook himself off and looked at his claws. “Unnecessary.” He said clipply. “However, if you do indeed wish to leave, it’d be very helpful if you were to actually open the doo-”

Before Starscream could even finish speaking, the doors slid open. Straightening, Starscream brought forth his air of confidence. This was the first time he’d be meeting Bee properly. Plus, he’d come face to face with the mech that orchestrated this whole thing: his host. They were a protective frametype. Don’t hurt their symbionts and everything should be fine. But they (meaning: Soundwave) seemed to respect mecha better when they were sure of themselves.

Starscream ducked down into the room, taking in the minimalistic design. A throne, a worktable (Starscream opticked the cabinets above, curious as to what they’d hold) before slowly drawing his gaze over to the center of the room. Definitely no luxuries when it came to pethood. What a shame he wouldn’t be joining-

“What happened to you?!” Starscream screeched, jumping back toward the door. He wasn’t expecting the horror that had awaited him in this room.

- - - - - - - - - -

Bee groaned. He slipped his hand under his visor to rub at the bridge of his nose. His filtration mask was long since disregarded. S-M hated the very presence of it (probably another control issue of hers). Bee didn’t really need it in the menagerie or his mecha, anyway. Although it was a necessity at times, it could be a pain. Bee much preferred the undersuit and mecha integration armor command had made mandatory. A visor and helmet fit snugly to his head, but his mouth remained uncovered. It helped to worm his fingers through between his head and the device to soothe away the aches. 

Bringing his hand away, Bee opened his eyes and watched the scrolling code go across his visor. Most of it was gibberish to him, his mecha doing the heavy lifting. However, with him attached to the mecha, it allowed him to be semi-aware of what the machine was doing with the coding. It was like a part of Bee knew exactly what was going on with all the 0s and 1s, but his full consciousness couldn’t sift through it.

It was annoying to think about, making his headache grow. Bee tried to block it out, focusing only on the ship’s cameras as he guided Starscream through the corridors and the heat and motion detectors to make sure the patrols didn’t get in his way (too much, at least). However, the data scrolling in the back of his neural link was like a looming shadow. 

The notion that his mecha was also monitoring S-M’s call with her command was probably not helping. One wrong move on Bee’s part and this whole thing fell apart. 

Don’t think about that. Bee told himself. Just get this pompous and easily distractable Cybertronian through the ship.

“The second door on the left leads to the menagerie.” Bee managed to get out. He took a deep breath, settling himself. He looked over at one of his monitors. The mecha had managed to hack through the security system to give access to the doors. Bee started typing in the command to open the door while he continued talking. “My enclosure is also on the left, last door before the dead end.”

Bee went to open the door before hesitating. He looked around the cockpit. It was dark besides the monitor and the occasional blinking light of the computers and energy cells powering the state of the art machine. 

Well, sophisticated machine for humans, anyway. Bee doubted Starscream- a literal living robot- would see it that way. Although Bee’s mecha could walk and talk like a Cybertronian, that’s about where the similarities ended. Starscream also seemed to be operating under the assumption that Bee was like him (which Bee was not going to correct anytime soon). However, the facade would crumble once Starscream saw the mecha. 

“Brace yourself.” Bee decided to warn before getting the urge to hit his head against something.

Bumblebee. A sweet voice entered his mind- his neural link, making Bee freeze in place.

“No,” Bee whispered, dread and panic mixing together in a unique anxiety blend.

Sweetums, what are you doing? Spider-Medusa asked, a part of her worming her way inside his mecha. That pleasure trickled throughout Bee, making him shudder.

… nothing. Bee tried thinking back. Any treasonous thoughts were pushed to the backburner. 

Oh? How unlike you. Spider-Medusa commented, the pleasure turning to a numb tingle that showed S-M’s displeasure.

I-it’s only the truth, Master. Bee thought consciously. I am being good, like you wanted. I’ve been in my mecha, sleeping.

Mmmm. Spider-Medusa hummed, not saying anything else.

Bee looked over the cameras, pulling up the feeds to the bridge. Spider-Medusa was standing at her console. Multiple monitors were taken up by faces. They were oblong and mostly metal. The centermost one had an orange crest with a sharp, gray face. Its pointed mouth moved strangely as it spoke before suddenly freezing. The face suddenly whirled around while its body remained immobile. Another gray face with a green spiky head piece took its place, which almost matched the Quintesson that showed up in the left most monitor.

Over time, Bee had come to learn the entire social hierarchy of the Quintessons. It was easy to conclude that Earth had stood no chance when their battles weren’t even gaining Quintessa’s attention. Spider-Medusa was just a mere anchor of a gladiatorial fueler ship, not even an actual, legitimate warship. They tore apart planets’ cores so they could make their weird, bile-tasting fuel to make sure Quintessa (and their people) could still function. 

In his time as Spider-Medusa's pet, Bee has caught a glimpse of all types of Quintesson’s, from grunts to important commanders and generals Spider-Medusa has met with. But in all his time, Bee has never seen these Quintessons, yet he knew them distinctly.

High Command.

The ship’s archives said that they are the last true Quintessons. Quintessa used to be an all organic planet. The species had advanced so much that they became technorganic (yet those advances ultimately destabilized Quintessa and brought upon a mass extinction of its people). The three High Commanders were the last of said species, offering guidance and life and blah blah blah. 

What Bee got out of the whole dribble was that High Command were manipulative assholes. Their five faces literally represented wrath, war, death, wisdom, and judgement. They liked control, and to get it, they killed whatever and whoever got in their path. Even if it was just a backwater planet in the middle of-

Dearest , Spider-Medusa spoke up, making Bee jump, remind me, how long does your species last?

Shaking away his tangent thoughts, Bee squirmed in his chair, honestly surprised by the question. “Depends.” He answered, suspicious. Depends on if we’re dealing with apocalyptic environments or our own choking pollution. Bee thought scathingly yet quietly. “Roughly 80 to 100 years, Master.”

Around a vorn then, mmmm. Spider-Medusa thought aloud. And your age?

Bee winced, realizing he didn’t know. He lost track of how long it had- would have- been when he got here. Hesitantly, he pulled up the main screen on one of the monitors before going to his chronometer. He just stared at it a moment, wondering if his thing glitched at some point. But if it was the right time…

“29 years, Master.” He had first connected to his mecha at 19. The youngest pilot in mecha history. No one thought he would last long. There had been a heavy debate if he should even graduate at all. However, necessity won over morals, and Bee got the neural link procedure. In the end, he made it longer than most. The record was 12 years (32 if counting a retired pilot who still had the neural link installed… as if it could be taken out safely). 

Mmm, so… fleeting , was all Spider-Medusa said for a moment. Bee gritted his teeth, holding back a resort. 

::I have arrived, valiant comrade!:: The sarcastic voice of Starscream suddenly said, making Bee jump again . ::If you would be so inclined as to-::

“SHUT UP!” Bee screamed. He brought his hands up, wanting to disconnect from his mecha, but he was controlling too much. There was too much at stake. And Spider-Medusa was in his head-

I believe you’re ready. She said cryptically. After this next night cycle, I’ll be making a more regular time in my schedule to spend time with you. I have been neglecting you, my pet. I hope to rectify that.

“That’s…” Bee started, horrified and anxious, “that’s so generous. Of course I am grateful, Master, but you don’t-”

Nonsense! Spider-Medusa exclaimed, pulsing pleasure through Bee. He shut his eyes against the onslaught, shuddering. We’ve already wasted too much time already. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. 

With that, the abrupt and strange conversation came to an end, leaving Bee reeling. He sat there a moment, getting overwhelmed by paranoia, but he quickly snapped out of it. The neural link and mecha demanded attention. He cringed when he remembered yelling at Starscream.

“Sorry,” he said reluctantly. Bee suddenly felt exhausted. He leaned back in his seat, neural link buzzing against his brain, slightly overheated. “It’s just…” Bee closed his eyes tightly, willing the headache away. “We need to leave. Soon.”

Five years ago would have been nice. 

::Unnecessary.:: Starscream replied tersely. Bee couldn’t even begin to parse through the meaning. ::However, if you do indeed wish to leave, it’d be very helpful if you were to actually open the doo-::

Bee rolled his head to the side, looking blearily at his readouts. Before Starscream could finish his sarcastic snipe, he was opening the doors. 

Taking a deep breath, Bee sat up in his chair. He looked out of his mecha’s visor feed. This would technically be the first time he met Starscream face-to-’face’. This meeting could make or break their-

“What happened to you?!” Starscream screeched. His optics wide and wings twitching from a lowered position. He even took a step back, seemingly horrified.

Bee just blinked from inside the cockpit. It was strange to come across somewhat human mannerisms after living on the Quint ship for so long. Spider-Medusa seemed to try her best to mimic them, but in the end it was just unsettling. Starscream however nailed it on the head without even trying.

But why is he so freaked out? I’m just- oh. Bee already forgot he was probably looking like an Eldritch horror to the Cybertronian.

“Hello to you too.” Bee said sarcastically. 

Upon hearing Bee’s voice, Starscream hesitated. The metal on his faceplate flexed strangely. He took a hesitant step into the room, wings coming up a little. “Bumblebee?”

“Were you expecting a Quintesson?”

“No, I thought your hos-” Starscream clamped his mouth shut, straightening. “Never mind. It seems you’re in a… predicament.” Starscream arrogantly stepped forward so they were at a comfortable distance apart for conversation. His optics roamed over the mecha, wincing as he saw some of the wiring that was integrated into it. 

Before Bee can sneer at his response, Starscream seemed to soften some. “Does… does it hurt?”

Not the way you think. Bee rubbed at the collar around his neck. Even now, it was a buffer between him and the mecha, always there, always interrupting the flow of their connection. Starscream can help free his mecha, but he was just going to have to bear the collar surrounding his flesh until…

Well, hopefully it’d be disabled when he got rid of Spider-Medusa and her ilk. If not…

At least no one will have my leash anymore. Bee thought, determined. 

“It could be better.” Bee gritted out, omitting to Starscream. “But if you don’t want this to be your future, you’ll help me. Now .”

The uncertainty drained from Starscream’s face, a grim look replacing it. Bee wasn’t sure what was running through his processor right now. All that mattered was that Starscream got closer .

As Bee pulled up the scans his mecha took of the new wiring added to it, he glimpsed at the time (barely avoiding the date). 

Three breem behind. He thought, heart pumping a panicked beat. His hands started to stake. It’s fine. He reassured himself, wishing he could run his hands through his hair. It’ll be fine.

It has to be.

Chapter Text

“Okay, so now that you’re connected into the system, you’ll need to-”

“Are you trying to instruct me how to edit code?” Starscream sneered, leaning back to glare at Bee in the visor. 

Bee rolled his eyes before wincing, his headache getting worse. He really wanted to unplug from his mecha. He hasn’t used his neural link this much since before he was captured. His brain wasn’t used to the exertion. 

But disconnecting wasn’t an option. He had to keep going. Sighing, Bee tried to relax in his seat, watching Starscream detangle the mess the Quints made of his mecha. However, his mental break was ruined by the alerts popping up on his control modules, warning Bee that his mecha’s wiring was being messed with.

Yes, I know. Bee thought, sitting up properly to clear the alerts. You told me I was being breached years ago or do you not remember? I’m finally fixing it.

Groaning, Bee wished he could run a hand through his hair. Instead, he scratched at his forearms to try and relieve some stress. He checked in with the hacked footage to make sure everything was still going as scheduled.

It took Bee a moment to realize the alerts had stopped. His focus went back to his mecha’s senses, seeing Starscream glance at him in concern.

“Why’d you stop?” He asked, a little sharply. They were running behind. Not by much, but it would start affecting them soon. The first thing Spider-Medusa would do after her meeting was probably check in on Bee. He didn’t trust her controlling personality to stay away, not with her obsession with Bee. They needed to move. This Cybertronian was supposed to be a literal war machine. Why wasn’t he-

“It hurts you.” Starscream said, surprising Bee. 

“So?” Bee said, sputtering. It really didn’t do anything to him, but Starscream thought he was another mechanical species. To him, this was a gorefest. 

“So!” Starscream repeated, wings twitching. “So… isn’t there another way?! They integrated your frame so it basically became a part of the vessel! You’re literally fused to the ship. How are you not screaming in pain? This is-”

“Aw,” Bee said, interrupting Starscream and laying on the sarcasm thick. “Are you squeamish, Screamer? You need me to hold your servo?”

Starscream just gave Bee an incredulous look, optics glitching. 

“Annnd now he’s broken.” Bee said, sighing. “Look, darling. We don’t have time for this. I didn’t realize this was your first day at war, so I’ll make this very simple. You do whatever you have to do to get me freed from this wall. Get creative, you seem like a smart cookie. You won’t get any complaints from me.”

That seemed to jolt Starscream out of whatever processor malfunction because he sneered. He tugged sharply on one of the lines. A lot of alerts came up on Bee’s monitors. But when he didn’t react like Starscream wanted, the Cybertronian huffed. He grumbled as he continued to slowly unravel the mecha’s lines from the Quint ship.

Sighing, Bee tipped his head back against the headrest. He just wanted the pain to go away. He wanted to (die) sleep for a week. Hopefully he’d find some reprieve after this whole mess was over.

“I wasn’t worried about you.” Starscream abruptly said. Bee opened his eyes and realized that he was freed. The Seeker was now fiddling with the collar around the mecha’s neck. Bee tensed, carefully watching his readouts. One false move from Starscream, and he’d be in a world of pain. 

“Oh, really?” Bee was able to get out. His hand came up to the collar around his own neck. That one wouldn’t be coming off anytime soon. Bee only hoped that it would deactivate after he killed Spider-Medusa and blew up the ship. Worst-case scenario: it’d kill him, but by then, he’d at least die free.

Fuck, he hoped he died free.

“Of course not.” Starscream scoffed. “I was merely concerned about your physical state-”

Bee felt his eyebrows scrunch up. He opened his mouth to question, but Starscream was already on a roll.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but this isn’t our plan to escape. It is yours. I am heavily reliant on you navigating us out of the ship. Without you, I’m dead. Or worse, that stupid Quint’s plaything. If you are not in peak condition- or at least, adequate condition- I will not make it off this rust bucket. My life is in your servos, appreciate it.”

“Gee, thanks.” Bee bit out before yelping. An electric pulse ran up through his neural link, shocking him. The yelp turned into a muffled scream as he gritted his teeth against the pain. As quickly as it started, however, it soon stopped. Bee panted, hand trying to rub at his port. Of course the blasted collar got in the way. 

Groaning, Bee looked up. His awareness went into the mecha’s visor monitor. Starscream looked him over with concern. When Bee’s mecha glanced up, his features went black. He crossed his arms over his chassis. The disgusting collar that had shut off most of the mecha’s functions now rested in the Cybertronian’s grasp. He clicked it against plating impatiently, looking down at Bee.

“Can you walk? Or move, at all?” Starscream asked, looking over the mecha’s crippled frame. “Because I am not carrying you.” 

Bee grunted in reply. It’d been years since he actually piloted. However, the skill seemed to be like riding a bike. The boot up sequence came easily to Bee. His engines and monitors revved and hummed to full power. As he stood up from the half kneel, half crouched position he was in, the joints of the mecha ground and squealed, but it stood up. 

Starscream winced at the sound, obviously looking over Bee in a mix of horror and revulsion. When Bee rose to his full height, he was actually a helm taller than Starscream, nearly scraping the ceiling with his antennas. Starscream looked him over, a blank expression falling on his gaze. Then his wings twitched, and he was whirling around.

“Perfect.” He said, voice a higher octave than normal. He walked over to the door, looking back impatiently when Bee didn’t move. “Let’s go. I believe we’re on a schedule, correct?”

“Yes.” Bee said slowly. He started walking forward, hiding a groan. It was a lot. He had to maneuver his mecha while continuing to monitor the ship, guards, and Spider-Medusa. Bee gulped, looking over his escape plan. He hadn’t accounted for this multitasking. Although he didn’t have as much access as he had when physically connected to the ship, it was still a lot on his neural link. Bee was lucky if he had only moderate brain damage after this. 

Trying to focus, Bee bent his mecha down to fit through the doorway. He glanced back at Starscream who followed him out. “We need to be quick. Our timetable is being crunched. Hopefully we’ll be in the hanger by the time shift rotation comes. Those soldiers you downed won’t stay unnoticed for long.” 

“Well,” Starscream sneered, gesturing to Bee’s sluggish mecha, “we’re only as strong as our weakest member. Maybe take your own advice. We-”

Bee held up a servo as he came to stop. He looked over to see Starscream almost smashed his faceplates into it. Bee couldn’t help but chuckle. Starscream glared as he crouched down, ripping the metal plating off the wall. A little cubby hole was revealed. Bee reached inside, getting the last of his transmitters out and handing them to Starscream.

“Take these.” Bee instructed. Starscream lifted them up and sneered. Bee didn’t blame him. They were made from scraps and junk that he had been able to scavenge from the ship over the years, probably graphic for the Cybertronian. “Your task is to throw those around our route to the hanger. I’ve already placed various others around the ship.”

“And… what exactly are these?” Starscream asked, pinching one between his claws. He eyed it before haphazardly tossing it back as they continued down the corridor.

“Transmitters.” Bee exclaimed. “I’ve observed how S-M interacts with the ship. Her cables emit certain frequencies that tell the ship what to do. I was able to mimic those frequencies. These’ll basically tell the ship to self-detonate.” 

Starscream jolted, wings hiking up and optics going wide. He gaped at Bee before rushing to keep up with the mecha’s longer strides. “With us in it?” He hissed, wings lowering defensively. 

“If worse comes to worst: yes.” Bee said pragmatically with a shrug. He looked down at Starscream. “I refuse to be hers any longer.” 

Sputtering, Starscream kept pace with Bee. The Seeker’s jaw flapped open and close, trying to find something to say as they exited Spider-Medusa’s halls.

“I didn’t agree to this.” He finally spat. Although he argued, he still threw one of the transmitters as they walked. “Maybe you have nothing to live for, but I do. I can wait. I have resources. Mechs who care for me. They’ll-”

“Be too late to save you.” Bee interrupted, a sorrowful tone entering his voice. “Look, I get it. Really, I do. My kind fought the Quints. Every cycle we stayed free was a success, but it was hard.”

Bee stopped when he saw/heard guards coming. Starscream and he hid in the shadows as they passed, not making a sound. Thankfully, they didn’t turn down their hallway. Once they slithered past, Starscream and Bee continued forward.

“Eventually, it didn’t matter. They fell. S-M took me as her trophy. Once you catch the Quint’s eye, there isn’t no going back.”

Starscream scoffed. “Oh, please. The Quint’s are hardly all that. If anything, they’re weak.”

Bee bristled, gritting his teeth. His hands gripped the armrest and controlled tightly. “Says the mech who got caught.” He bit out.

“Well, yes, but I was alone.” Starscream flicked his claws out, observing them before lobbing another transmitter. “Even I- the Great Starscream- can't fight off a swarm, especially being battle damaged and low on fuel. Not to mention-”

“Get to your point.” Bee sneered.

Starscream flicked a wing at him. “Quintessons are a pathetic empire. They go after weak, isolated planets that have no way to escape them. Even if they managed to escape their planet and flee the Quints, they don’t have the knowledge or resources to hide for long. Supposedly, that’s where the UAIS comes in. They make sure the more…” Starscream rotated his servo around, trying to find the glyphs, “...traveled species of the universe don’t unfairly take away from the still developing. However, they fail to regulate their own members.”

Rolling his optics, Starscream scoffed. “Politics.”

“...right.” Bee said, taking this new information in. Something churned in his stomach, but he shook it off. “Well, they seem to be a pretty secure empire if they have such a standing amongst this UAIS.” As Bee said it, his mecha- having downloaded some of the ship's database- looked up the alliance.

“Please, they’re nothing. Nothing against secured planets and their colonies. They’ve tried to take over Cybertron three times now and failed. Honestly, it’s pretty pathetic. Especially since the technorganics believe we are merely simple machines that were made to serve them.” Starscream scoffed before it transitioned into a chuckle. “The gull of some organisms.” 

Bee made a disbelieving sound, shaking his head. A somewhat awkward silence settled between them after, but Bee couldn’t find the energy to start up another topic. The data and piloting was too much already.

Thankfully, the conversation was enough to get them across the ship. Spider-Medusa’s halls weren’t that far from the hangers (well, for Starscream and his mecha. To human Bee, it had taken forever to find the hangers and then sneak away to secure a ship).  

“Okay,” Bee said as they reached the door. There were a few entrances to the hangers. The closest was thankfully a maintenance door close to the battery recharging station. Pulling up the ship’s schematics and the hanger floor plan, Bee went over the plan mentally one more time.

“There should be some guards on duty, but it’s just a skeleton crew.” Bee explained, looking down at Starscream. “There’s no shipments due today and the scouting ships aren’t docking for a few more vargas. You get rid of our company while I snag a battery for our ship.”

Starscream nodded slowly. “Alright.” He easily conceded. He dropped the last of the transmitters before unsubspacing his daggers (Bee was so jealous of that feature). Looking over the blades, Starscream shifted, plating flaring out before tucking back in. He then turned to Bee. The human was amazed by how quickly Starscream became stone cold serious. He nodded to Bee, seemingly waiting for his cue.

Taking a deep breath, Bee gave his own nod. “Right, let’s do this.” 

Pinging the door open, the two rushed in before it slid all the way back. Starscream immediately slinked off to the left, his first target already acquired. For such a vain and vibrant mech, he blended in quite well.

Bee pushed all thoughts away, instantly going over to the batteries. From what he managed to scrap together, Quint scout ships main power source came from these crystal battery packs. Bee had no idea what compositions made them up, neither did his mecha. What just mattered was that they work.

Inside the ship, there was an entry panel where one would slide the battery in. Then- voila- the ship worked. It also had an engine that needed its own fuel. Bee didn’t really worry about it. The hanger crew kept those in good maintenance. The ship only had to reach the nearest space port, neutral colony, or wherever Starscream wanted to go. Then Bee could finally rest and-

Now what do you think you’re doing?

Bee had just been unhooking the battery and making his way to the ship when that voice entered his mind. Although Spider-Medusa seemed amused, he could feel the edge in her tone.

Glancing at one of his monitors, Bee cursed. Spider-Medusa was no longer in the command center. 

“Starscream!” He yelled over comms. He quickly made his way over to their hacked ship, pinging its hatch to open. Bee needed to get this done before she figured out what was going on. He could feel her trying to access his mecha. The collar was gone, though, her access cut off. But only to the mecha, not him. 

::Yes, yes. I’m going as fast as I can.:: Starscream grumbled. ::No need to-::

“She knows!” Bee interrupted. He pried open the panel, slotting the battery into place. He didn’t bother to close, going over to the pilot’s seat to make sure it integrated properly. “She’s coming! I don’t have much time. She’ll stop me in a moment. I’m assuming guards will be swarming the hanger. You need to-”

Bumblebee! Her voice roared across his mind, making him gasp. She started flooding into his neural link, but he fought it off as best as he could. His collar was supposed to be connected to his mecha’s so neither could fight back. Although his collar made a buffer against his neural link and the mecha’s interface, the mecha’s crude AI helped him focus against Spider-Medusa’s onslaught.

“In the packet I sent you-ah!” Bee winced as he felt Spider-Medusa focus entirely on him, worming her way into his systems. “You have the access codes to the ship, plus the coding for the kill switch. Get to the ship and- urghh!”

Bee’s systems were suddenly flooded with electricity. It was tormenting and unrelenting. Bee screamed as he was assaulted, back arching. There was no way to escape it. Finally, it stopped before the storm could do serious damage to him, but the pain stayed. It doubled, the opposite of Spider-Medusa’s pleasure tingles. As Bee was forced unconscious, he felt her tut inside his mind.

Naughty pet.