"I really don't see the need for this frivolity. Caminus is literally just in the next star system! The transport ship isn't going to collapse mid-hyper jump!" It seemed to Windblade that Starscream was convinced if he complained about something hard enough, Primus would just reach down and pluck him away from it. She didn't think there were many gods watching over this type of place though, so the Seeker was out of luck. And out of fuel, from how he grumbled about "missing the diplomat banquet as they speak".

"Isn't that exactly what you said on the way to Archa Seven?" Windblade asked pointedly as she looked around the spaceport for anything that wasn't covered in grafitti, energon, or grafitti done in energon. She couldn't see Starscream's wings freezing behind her, but the tension wrecking his voice saved her from turning around. "Well, it, um... it might have involved... similar wording..."

"And isn't that sort of confidence why we had to explain to a very annoyed Forester why we were late for our appointment, after getting chased five miles by giant spiders because our ship fell apart outside the shield zone?" As she turned to survey the west side of the pot Windblade caught a glimpse of one of Starscream's servos shooting up to his chest- no doubt he was remembering when a razor-tipped leg almost sliced through it, leaving a thick trail of energon bleeding behind them as they ran through the ferns to awaiting safety.

"... I really wish you'd stop bringing that up, Windblade."

"I will when you stop making it necessary to," she replied simply, bearing a hopeful smile after spotting a decent-looking bar just outside their docking bay. She stood in front of Starscream, sympathy glimmering in her optics so they could soften the hard bitterness in the Seeker's own. "You'll feel better after some energon, anyway. None of the distilled 'made-for-travel' stuff we've been living on for the past orn, either."

That at least made the sour scowl on his faceplate a tiny pinch sweeter. "I suppose so..."

Windblade twitched her wings as she pulled on his servo, leading him towards the bar. He only dragged his optics up from the ground when they were almost at the entrance, and a sudden jolt of electricity in his processor made him stop short. Windblade was caught off guard by his pause and almost stumbled, still gripping his servo. She pouted at his sudden distraction and turned to see what had caused it, but all she saw was the Seeker staring wistfully up at the neon-drenched beacons and signs swaying above them.

"This place... it looks familiar," he muttered, voice hushed as if he was about to enter some holy temple.

Windblade cocked an eyeridge. "Never thought you'd be caught offline in a place like this, where there isn't a tax-powered cleaning drone around every corner."

That remark shook Starscream from his daze, replacing the confused sheen over his optics with a smoldering fire that burned almost as bright as the buzzing neon surrounding them. "I'll have you know, Windblade, I'm not a stranger to getting my servos dirty. Throughout the entire war I had to go to some of the worst desolate dumps this side of the galaxy- and yes, my places to relax were somewhat limited back then, due to all my old haunts being in ruins on Cybertron." His servos made dramatic sweeping motions as he ranted, just like those Windblade had seem him use during speeches. Now one hand went to his waist and another formed a cruel point towards her, almost jabbing at the pristine Autobot symbol on her chest. "Unlike you and your kind, who slept through the whole war on a Metrotitan's back and only show up now to steal the spoils."

Windblade wasn't prepared for the venom in his voice, and her servos shook as if she'd been poisoned by them. "I didn't... I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant," Starscream growled with exhaustion replacing most of his anger. He marched past her, aching for the relef of drunken darkness. "Now let's just get inside before a guard shows up."



xx



He was still trying to place his digit on what it was about the place that made his processor pound so fiercely- for once it wasn't the company he was forced to treat with. Starscream supposed that any self-respecting bot would have their protoform crawling at being near a place like this, but that still didn't explain why he was so unsettled. He was the leader of Cybertron, former SIC to the biggest scraphead this side of the universe; he'd dealt with much worse than a dodgy bar in an off charts spaceport.

If Windblade shared any of discomfort, only the flutter of her wings gave it away. Smoke from cyberettes and plasma guns twirled lazily through her vents and scratched unpleasantly at Starscream's olfactories as they looked for a booth- preferably near a window.

"I'll get our drinks," Windblade offered when he'd finally seated himself, groaning as weight left his throbbing peds. "I can start a tab for us, if you want-"

"That won't be necessary." Starscream was quick to cut her off with a wave of his servo, using the other to rub at his aft as it tried to adjust to the hard booth cushioning. "Just get me a Rocket. I've had... bad experiences with tabs in the past." He should have known Skywarp would have never given his own credits away to his brothers when he could filch off of one of them instead, and he was still paying off the fee for all the flat-liners he downed that night.

In fact, the only reason he could remember any of what happened back then was the unique hangover cure that was forced onto him- three femmes, four days of non-stop fragging. Now he had a blooming pain in his codpiece to deal with as the memory spread in his consciousness, but there wasn't much he could do about it aside from following Skywarp's example and exposing himself in the middle of the bar.
What were their names again... Roulette and Lucky Seven, those were the ones he remembered most vividly. One liked to ride and the other liked to suck. He couldn't remember which one's valve tasted like strawberry though. Queeny, the other one, he also unfortunately remembered. She took her fair share of turns with him as well, despite their mutual contempt during the drinking game. Maybe she imagined that it was Megatron between her legs instead.

Starscream's floundering memories of his torture debt actually managed to dredge up why the bar was so familiar to him. It was the very same one that had hosted his trine mates, almost had Skywarp's spike on show for everyone and saw Megatron made penniless in half a breem. How lovely. He was about to take a drink to convince himself it wasn't foreboding when he realised he didn't have one yet. So he contented with biting a digit, rolling his digits along the plating seams and glazing optics over the other patrons, almost curious to see if any had changed over the years. There were a few more non-Cybertronian species present than he remembered, but other than that it was the same bored, bankrupt scum who had nothing better to do than bleed the last of their credits into a high-grade glass and some cheap entertainment.
No wonder Skywarp had been so fond of the place.

He was eventually torn away from his peeking by a thump in front of him as Windblade returned with their order.

"It's about time, Wind-" He was expecting a glint of black and white armour plating sitting across from him, but not in the form of splattered polka dots. The gold and red that usually graced Windblade's form was seperate from the mixture here, and even the recognisable red and black together didn't look right to him.

All the right colours, but in all the wrong places.

Three places, to be exact.

'Okay, Primus, I understand we're not on exactly good terms. But I thought we were past this, this tug-of-war of fate that's been going on for the past millennia. I get it now, you gave me the Leader of Cybertron job as a second chance, one for me to leave the Decepticons behind and start over fresh. But now you're just being a total glitch about it. Is this what you call karma? Is this revenge for me knocking that Sunstorm freak off the top of Delphi Pass?'

Primus didn't deign to answer Starscream's nanoklick prayer, but the Seeker wasn't disappointed. Even gods avoided the femmes of Valhalla when they could.

"Fancy seein' you back here, Screamer!" The years hadn't altered Roulette's disposition or how high her voice could reach.

"We almost didn't recognise you with the new paintjob!" Lucky had apparently already doused herself in drink for the evening, from how she slumped on the booth table and pointed at Starscream's crimson armour. His faceplate was quickly starting to match its shade as he realised the three femmes had effectively boxed him in, the window at his back being his only means of escape aside from just flying over their helms.

"It almost manages to make you look respectable for once. Almost." Queeny left the right side of the booth empty, preferring to stand and lean over the back of it as she delicately held a flute of high-grade in one hand. Starscream was on the verge of snatching it for himself as he tried to process through his rising panic; optics flicking everywhere, desperate for a glimpse of Windblade approaching.

But there was no scarlet savior in sight. Starscream sank visibly into his seat, despite the stiff padding covering it. The femmes obviously hadn't been around Cybertron recently or they would have recognised him from all his campaigns and speeches and never set ped near him. At least, that's what he hoped would have been the case.

"Y-You ladies... look well." His stutter was met with a round of scoffs and a giggle from Roulette.

"A century since we last saw you and that's all you gotta say? What happened to the sulky little sparkling we had our way with?"

"What, you still reeling from all our time together?" Lucky cooed, pressing her face together with her hands and making loud sounds with her plump lips.

"I wouldn't be surprised- it's probably the last time he's ever been with femmes." Starscream growled quietly at Queeny's cutting laughter and had to bite his glossa back to stop himself from mentioning Windblade accompanying him tonight. Not only would they get the wrong impression, he'd just give them more bullets to hurl at him. He'd be better off saying as little as possible and keeping himself in check until they'd eventually get bored of him or the other Seeker returned- whichever came first.

"Is that what you're here for, sweetie, looking for a girl to take home?" Lucky inched herself closer over the table, lazily stretching her servo out as if she was going to grab for Starscream's own.

"Cause we're not really in the gambling mood tonight..." Roulette purred, leaning across the table as well and tipping her chestplates forward in the process. Even Queeny had a dangerously flirtatious glint in her optics as she tapped her digits against the booth padding. "We just want some fun, someone for our berth-"

"Starscream?"

Never before had he been happier to hear the lilt of Windblade's bewilderment. The femmes (aside from Lucky still slumped over) turned to face the question; caught out by the sudden appearance of an unfamiliar bot, so they missed the opportunity of catching his heavy sight of relief.

"Who are these... ladies?" Windblade held the tray of high-grade glasses close to her chest, as if she was planning on using it as a weapon. On that note, she wasn't as slow as Starscream first thought.

"They're just about to leave," he hissed, quickly regathering his scattered confidence.

"Like the Pit we are!" Roulette protested, turning back to Starscream with a pout.

"The century hasn't taught you any more manners, I see," Queeny threw back at him, making no move to budge from her spot. "We're not moving until you tell us all we want to know.

"Damn right!" Lucky slurred loudly, sloshing her high-grade everywhere as she thumped her fist on the table. "We gotta right to know!"

"Like how's that silver snake of yours been lately?" Roulette probed, wiggling her eyeridges at his scandalised expression. "You been treating it well?"

"Hope you haven't been petting it too hard..." Queeny chuckled, as if Windblade wasn't even there. Starscream knew if he tried to speak every word would just be a splutter, so he used his optics to plead to her. There was still confusion on her faceplate as she tried to read his, but contemplation scribbled over it as she tried to assess the situation, even if she didn't fully understand it.

He wasn't sure what was going on inside Windblade's helm at that moment, but eventually her optics hardened and she took in a deep vent before setting their drinks aside and stepping over to taking hold of his servo.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you ladies, but I'm afraid my husband and I must leave you now."

"Husband?!" Starscream almost joined in the chorus of shock before his lips were covered by Windblade's, his cheeks now fully matching the shade of her mouth as it pulled away from him.

"I know, a handsome mech like him, you think he'd still be up for grabs," Windblade chuckled weakly, pulling Starscream to his peds. Even with the pain still laced in them he was glad to be out of the Primus-cursed seat. At least he could show some power while standing, keeping his wings erect and trying not to glance his shock at Windblade when she linked his servo fully through hers.

"But we have important political business to deal with. Far too dull to bore you all with, but nevertheless it must be attended to." Something in the femme's tone stopped the others from questioning what 'business' they'd have, but Roulette wasn't about to give up so easily.

"Not even time for one little bar game?" Starscream's jawplate almost dropped off at her audacity, but Windblade dismissed her for them both.
"I'm afraid not. Come along, dear."

Before they escaped, Starscream overheard what must have been Lucky coming to after passing out for all the nanoklicks Windblade spent creating her charade.
"Wha' happen'd?"

Then Starscream practically felt the smirk on Queeny's faceplate as she replied. "The 'pink femme' got a new paint job, apparently..."

But with a seeker dragging on one servo and their drinks in the other, Windblade saved him from the stuffiness of the dank bar and brought him into the fresh coldness of the cosmic outdoors.

It wasn't complete freedom yet, though. Now he had another femme to deal with.

"You owe me so much for that!" Windblade insisted, dropping Starscream's servo as soon as they were out the doors. It ended up drifting to his lips, pressing where they still tingled from Windblade's kiss as she listed off all her payment options. "And not only an explanation for what the frag just happened; I want a raise in energon rations, upgraded suite in the Iacon hall..."

Starscream was only half listening as he finally got hold of his Rocket and gulped it down in one go. Right now, he was happy to give her all of Cybertron if it would mean receiving another kiss as payment.

"Oh, and Starscream... I also want to know what the Pit a 'silver snake' is."