Chapter Text
“Who's she?” The Purple One pointed a finger, and she glared from behind the shuttle’s pedes. She felt his servo on her helm, rubbing at the plating of her audials, something he found soothed her.
“Her name,” Skyfire stressed, “is Aphelion. She’ll be staying with Starscream and I for awhile.” Blue optics snapped to the mass by his legs, and the mech quickly amended, “For however long she likes.”
“Oh.” Purple said. He looked as thoughtful as one could in between nibbles of energon cookies. “Does she know how to play Forged to Fight?”
No, no she didn't. But, Aphelion was a fast learner— and it was a simple game, anyways, with rudimentary 3D graphics that hurt her processor if she concentrated on one area of the screen for too long.
In the midst of winning her third match in a row, the white seekerling wondered if this was a good time to practise what Starscream had called social skills. She'd once read in a book that defeat brought friendship.
And Aphelion thought she ought to have some of that.
“What’s your designation?” she asked. The other seeker didn't set his controller down, so neither did Aphelion.
“Skywarp.” He said, after a moment. His wings froze, like he was considering something. Like he was considering what to say, and how to say it. “I’m from Vos, but we don't live there anymore. Which is fine; it was all pretty and stuff, but real boring,”
“We?”
“Mhm! Carrier, Sire, T.C. and me—” Carrier, Sire, T.C. and I ,Aphelion wanted to correct.
But Starscream had told her that some people didn't like being told they were wrong — even if they absolutely were. She remembered hearing Skyfire sigh when Starscream said that, but he’d sighed in a noncommittal way. As if it were only natural that his endura would say something like that, and it would be blasphemous for him not to.
So, Aphelion only nodded, though, she wondered what a T.C. was.
She only found out who T.C. was later that evening, when her spot had been taken, snatched from her without seemingly a second thought.
“Did you enjoy the observatory?” Starscream had set his needle felting materials one-side, his hand gently running over the blue seeker’s helm. Blue sat on her new parental unit’s lap. He looked comfortable. Too comfortable for Aphelion’s liking.
It’s not my spot. said logic, a friend she knew very well. Yet, emotion screamed, But it isn't his, either!
Aphelion tried not to scowl, because she knew, logically speaking, that she had no right to. She clambered up onto the three-seater with little difficulty, and spread out, resting her head on the armrest, and her pedes on the red aerial. The usurper looked uncomfortable, but the white seekerlet couldn’t care less.
“Skyfire bought a holographic star map for me. It's from the observatory’s gift store.” She’d been excited about it, so enamored with the map of the local star systems that she'd kept switching it on during the flight home, trying to catch sneak peeks at it. Now, her voice just sounded flat.
“Can I see?” The marauder dared to speak— Aphelion made a face. An unpleasant expression that betrayed the words that she didn't say.
Starscream’s garnet optics flitted between the two of them, and he cleared his throat. “Thundercracker,” His tone was chiding. Like a gentle reminder. “Don’t be rude. Introduce yourself.”
It would be an unnecessary introduction— Starscream had given away the mechling’s name, and the white seeker didn't need anymore than that. She didn't want anymore than that.
Aphelion hoped that the twin wouldn't be around the next day. But they were, because their creators, the both of them, were off-world.
“Slipstream and Windblade travel often.” That was what Skyfire had told her. She hadn't understood the significance of those names, and the shuttle-mech explained in that patient way of his. How Slipstream was Starscream’s twin. How Windblade was a cityspeaker, and Slipstream’s endura.
Aphelion knew that the large Cybertronian was a professor, but this was, in her memory banks, the first time he’d acted all professor-y. She’d pictured all professors as strict slaggers, rapping their students on the backs of their servos, pinching the tips of students’ wings when they didn't listen.
It was good that there were bots like Skyfire who were professors. Bots who were nice professors, and patient and gentle and kind.
“A cityspeaker?” The seekerlet knew what it was. “Oh.” She murmured to no one in particular. “That makes them more interesting.”
Aphelion quickly learned that Skywarp didn't know anything about cityspeakers, so, she sought out Thundercracker.
He was never too difficult to find, though he was quieter than his brother, the blue seeker tended to lurk about in the shade of the back veranda.
He’d been reading from a datapad, but would occasionally pause to pull at the little sunhat that Starscream insisted he wear whenever he went outdoors. It was made of some thin material that breathed well, but the seekerling was clearly not used to wearing it.
“What do you know about cityspeakers?” Aphelion leaned in close, standing on the tip of her pedes to be even closer. She forgot all of her guardians’ lessons on personal space, and on boundaries, because she was curious.
If Thundercracker minded, he didn't say anything. Instead, he pressed a few buttons on his datapad (a new model, Aphelion noted) and then turned the screen to her.
It was then that the white seeker decided that she liked Thundercracker.
“Endura,” Skyfire was the one to break the silence between them. His voice was low, low enough that he wouldn't wake the bundle of younglings who’d settled all over their berth.
“I think we were worried for nothing.”
Starscream scoffed, thumbing through the pages of his novella. With a wing, he gently prodded at Skywarp, and the mech moved his neck from the frankly unnatural angle it hung at.
“We?” It was a rhetorical question. “I wasn't the one saying that they’d slag each other—” He glanced down to Thundercracker, whose helm rested on his knee joint. “—although it would’ve been fun to watch. Make bets, you know.”
“Star… that wasn't what I said,” Skyfire shook his head. He’d ignore the latter half of that sentence; he knew his beloved was only joking. For the most part, at least.
“It sure sounded like that's what you said, Sky, but no matter.” The red aerial said. “Goodnight, endura.” His wings drooped, and he reached across the bedside table. His lamp blinked off.
There was some shifting, a few disgruntled whines as Skyfire moved the younglings into more comfortable positions. Starscream debated turning his light back on, if only so the other mech could see what he was doing.
But, there was that familiar heat on his forehelm; the goodnight kiss that Skyfire insisted on giving every night, “G’night Star,”
They fell asleep in the same position they always did, with Skyfire hugging the smaller flier close, and the younglings nestled in between them.
Sometimes, when the nighttime sky was especially beautiful, the younglings were able to convince Skyfire to let them stay up late. He rarely said no— though, if he did say it, they went to Starscream instead.
Aphelion set her astral map down on the blanket Skywarp had hauled out of a supply closet, and spread onto the grass. The light blinked red, and Thundercracker leaned closer, frowning.
“I think the batteries’re busted.” Thundercracker was good at stating the obvious.
But Aphelion shook her head, “I changed them just this morning!”
She switched the map off, then turned it over. The display unit fit neatly into her servo, and once she’d removed the battery plating, she had taken the singular, large battery in between her hands and rubbed quickly. She’d seen Starscream do something similar once or twice, so, she knew that it would work.
When she pressed the 'on' switch the next go round, the light glowed green. She flashed an ‘I told you so’ look at Thundercracker, who nodded in approval.
The holographic display took a klik or two to boot upp, and it loaded in parts; although it hadn't been cheap (going from Skyfire’s expression when he’d seen the pricetag), it was still a cheaply made gift shop gadget. Aphelion figured that she’d get a proper one later.
But once it'd fully loaded in, it was gorgeous.
All three seekerlings crowded around it, resting on their stomachs and propping their helms up with the backs of their servos.
A purple digit traced the holograph, which had projected an image of the sky, and which divided the soupy expanse into columns and rows. “Oh, hey, it lines up!”
Skywarp pointed skywards, towards Luna-1. “See? Luna-1’s over there in the sky and…” He needed to refer to the star map. “it’s in C-3 on the map and everything!”
Thundercracker’s wings twitched in thought. “Think we can find Luna-2?”
Aphelion wanted to say that they probably could, especially if she were looking for it. But, Starscream didn't give her chance to say that.
“You won't see Luna-2.” His voice was unmistakable, and at once, three helms snapped behind them.
The red seeker and Skyfire had settled into the patio chairs, though Aphelion couldn't remember hearing either of them. They must’ve moved quietly; she would have heard them otherwise.
Skywarp furrowed his optic ridges, “Why not?”
“Luna-2 never stays in one place,” Starscream informed simply. It was almost condescending, but that was just the mech’s manner of speaking. “Planetary thrusters, and all of that.”
Thundercracker, Skywarp and Aphelion all went silent. The information needed time to sink in. Time to sink in properly.
Aphelion spoke first, her voice a cluster of sputtering, “You-You can't just move a moon!” Skywarp didn't look like he believed it either.
Thundercracker just stared. Or, well, he stared until he found the right words. “Uncle Skyfire, that's not true, is it?”
The shuttle nodded once, bringing his mug to his lips. It was that mug he really liked, the one with the ‘chickens’ patterned on it— ‘chickens’, Aphelion was told, were an avian species from a distant planet.
“Do you three honestly believe I’d let Star lie to you?” Skyfire tsked.
There was a klik-long silence. That was a kilk longer than Skyfire had been expecting.
But, the quiet soon passed, replaced by other conversations. Aphelion wouldn't wish to be anywhere else in the universe.