A/N: TF:TM was in bad taste and my take on the Transformer Universe doesn't include that at all. (What is the point of killing off some of the best characters?!) It's my belief that the three Seekers, Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp, are very good friends and have probably known each other since they were young. (Why else would Starscream put up with all the crap TC and 'Warp give him?) So here is my take on how they met. The story will be from the point of view of all three, how they grew up, what influenced their personalities, how they fought for the status of 'Seeker' (and what the position and history behind the term means -evil grin-) and how they ended up joining the Decepticons.
All constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms! Please Rate and Review and please let me know if you like this storyline!
Definition: The Young Turks originated from the secret societies of progressive university students and military cadets. They adopted liberal ideas which meant conflicts with the status quo. The term 'young turk' is used to describe individuals inside an organization who are more progressive and seek prominence and power
Chapter 1 – Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp - The Beginning
It was a small yet noisy neighborhood off of a louder main thoroughfare in Iacon, where the buildings were stacked one on top of the others in a mess of cheap housing. The family was not very well off, and with the war just ending, jobs and housing were a luxury. They had moved to the city and into the small apartment after his father-creator was offered a modest job. His mother-creator had been working as a teacher, supporting the family on her meager wages in Kaon before they moved to Iacon. With his mother-creator gone most of the day at her teaching job, the youngling was left alone with his father-creator who had no desire to raise a sparkling. The cramped quarters of their old home still scared the youngling; things would happen when he and his father-creator were forced to be that near each other. Bad things.
Life had improved with his father-creator at work and his mother-creator taking care of him, but there were far too many days when she would shove him out the door with a few data pads after his father-creator came home. His mother-creator's sad purple optics haunted the young sparkling, as she would hand him the pads and whisper that he needed to learn everything he possibly could to escape from their current situation. Which is why he took to sitting on the titanium front stoop with his data pads, reading everything she downloaded for him. The street was fairly busy with mechanoids passing through almost constantly at all hours, traveling to and from work and home. With so many people around, it was difficult for his father-creator to take his aggressions out on the red sparkling.
It was a day like any other and he was sitting on the stoop digesting a text on the anatomy of mechanoids, when he felt like he was being watched. He looked up from the data pad and gazed up and down the street; no one was paying any attention to him as they walked by his stoop. He shrugged and went back to reading. A few minutes later, the sensation returned, but instead of lifting his head, he scouted the area around him just using his optics. There was nothing out of the ordinary to the right of him, just people moving along. His optics drifted to the left scanning the street carefully, and he found a set of purple optics peeking at him from a window. He lifted his head slowly and turned to look at the optics, but they were gone in a flash. This game of staring, as it were, happened a few more times that afternoon and continued for the next few days as well.
One morning a few days later, when he was shoved out the door earlier than normal, he finally got a good look at the youngling. He was playing by himself on the stoop of his home a few doors down. He had a set of model fliers that he would swoop back and forth in some imaginary battle. This time he stared at the youngling, who was a light blue mech with purple optics and about the same age as him, wondering why he wasn't studying and why he was playing by himself. It only took a few moments before the blue youngling realized he was being watched; he turned slowly and met the stare before running up the steps and into his home, slamming the door shut. Once the staring contests stopped and the red mech went back to studying, the blue youngling stayed outside and played by his lonesome, not leaving the bottom step of the stoop.
And so, this quiet acceptance of each other continued, the two recognizing the other's habits and silently keeping their distance.
Unbeknownst to them, there was another set of optics carefully watching the two in their strange habitats. He kept a silent observation of the two mechs for a few days, monitoring their behavior closely and planning his attack. The two goody-goodies would be an easy target for him, and he relished the idea of the upcoming 'war' he was going to start.
It was a normal day for the two younglings, each in their accepted element as the world passed by when the 'war' began. He snuck quietly along the buildings, his 'ammunition' ready for the attack, as he closed the distance between himself and the red mech on the stoop. He won't know what hit him, the stalker smirked to himself. A few feet from the stoop, he ducked down and slid along the wall and counted down quietly, 3, 2, 1. "YARGH!" He threw the energon bomb at the red mech, splashing the thick liquid all over him and covering the data pad. He allowed himself a nano-second to enjoy the mayhem before he blinked away from the stoop and over to the blue mech, throwing his other energon bomb at the unsuspecting youngling. He laughed loudly and tore off down the street, running as fast as his little legs could take him.
The red youngling had barely registered the black mech that attacked him when he heard the yelp from the blue mech who was attacked in the same way. Their assailant had run away as quickly as he attacked, laughing as he skidded around the corner of the street. The youngling looked at his soiled data pad and tried to wipe the viscous liquid off the screen as the loud slamming of a door echoed from across the street. He just shook his head and continued to wipe the energon off of him.
The attacker was now peeking around the corner at his prey, somewhat amused and somewhat disappointed. It was hilarious to see their expressions, and even funnier to hear the blue mech yell; but neither tried to chase him down or take any action against him. His little face screwed up in a mischievous smirk, he needed a better attack to get them… and he had a slew of ideas on just how.
The very next day, the status quo of the street had returned; the red mech was back on his stoop reading while the blue mech was playing with his fliers quietly on his. The blue youngling was more nervous than usual, peeking up and looking around the street every few minutes. The red mech watched the other's actions carefully, using the other youngling's vigilance as an early warning signal if there was going to be another attack. He was slightly annoyed at being surprised and coated with energon and he wasn't exactly sure what he'd do if the attacker returned, but he decided to worry about that if it happened again.
He was watching the other mech while he scanned the street for their assailant when they were attacked; this time the nervous blue mech was coated by a bucket of energon dumped from the rooftop. The red youngling's optics were on the rooftop instantly, trying to see which way the attacker was running, when he was hit with a bucketful of energon as well. There was snickering coming from above, but it stopped as the red youngling wiped the pink goo from his face. The mech across the street was looking at him now, and a silent agreement was made between them: this meant war.
The black youngling was peeking around the corner at the two he attacked, snickering happily as they tried to clean the energon off. That was a great idea. He turned and started to skip down the street with two empty buckets swinging back and forth in his hands.
The next morning, the red mech sat in a different spot on his stoop; he was closer to the street and with a blank data pad, ready to pounce when the trickster tried to attack again. The blue youngling across the street followed his lead and both nodded silently to each other, acknowledging their readiness to get the attacker back. They waited patiently, both seemingly lost in playing and reading, but they were watching the area carefully, with the red mech reaching up and stretching occasionally, checking the rooftops for danger.
The stalker was keeping a close optic on the two, waiting for the perfect moment to attack. His father-creator was not happy about all the energon that had been used in the pranks, so a slight change in tactics was needed. His weapons this time weren't the crude bombs or splashing buckets. This time he was using the big guns: big grease guns. The youngling giggled as he checked over his newest weapons making sure they were armed and ready for the attack before ducking and sliding around the corner. His first target today was the blue mech again; his reactions to being surprised were the best.
The red mech caught sight of their attacker and dropped his data pad, which got the attention of the blue youngling. They made optic contact and the red youngling silently warned that the attacker was closing in on the other's position. They shared a smirk as the data pad was retrieved and both younglings got ready to pounce on their attacker.
The guns were at his side as he neared his target, who looked like he was playing by himself, still oblivious to the world around. The stalker moved in for the kill sliding along the last few feet of the wall. Little did the attacker know, that the red mech had set the data pad down and was slowly crossing the street, silently dodging the people that were walking past. The guns came over the edge of the stoop only to be kicked away as the blue mech launched himself at the assailant. The force of the tackle knocked the black mech to the ground, the guns falling to the side as a blue fist met with the youngling's chin. He tried to push the blue mech off of him when they were both tackled by the red mech. A scuffle ensued and the two attackee's turned the tables on their attacker - both red and blue mechs had grabbed a gun and proceeded to coat the black mech with a thick layer of grease.
A few minutes later, all three sat on the ground panting with assorted wounds from the fight and splattered with grease. The red and blue mechs glared at the black mech, who sat there grinning with energon bleeding from his split lip. "'Bout time you two did somethin' other than sit there."
Two sets of purple optics narrowed and the red mech frowned. "Do you want more than a busted lip?"
The black mech stuck his tongue out, "You and what army, you nerdy glitch-mouse?"
The red mech's optics widened and his voice went up an octave, "I'm not a glitch-mouse! You take that back!"
"Nope. I call them as I see them, and you're a whiney glitch-mouse!"
"Take that back!" The youngling's voice went up again.
"Take that back!" The red mech screeched.
"Glitch-mouse, glitch-mouse, glitch-mouuuuuuuuuussssssssseeeeeeee!" The most mischievous smirk spread across the black mech's face.
"Take that back, you lousy Pit-spawned sparkling!"
"Who you callin' a sparkling?" The smirk was gone.
"'I call them as I see them'." The red mech was sticking his tongue out now.
The blue mech who had been silently watching the two bicker was grinning and trying to stifle a giggle.
The black mech glared at the blue, "What are you laughing at, robo-chicken?"
"Your ugly face-plate. Was your mother-creator drunk on high-grade when she sparked you?"
The red mech started to snicker, which earned him a glare from the black mech. "Pfft! I don't have time for you two sparklings." He moved to pick up the discarded guns, but the other two grabbed them quickly and aimed at the black mech. The youngling scowled and turned to walk down the street.
Both blue and red younglings grinned at each other and at the retreating mech. "Hey Pit-spawn! What's your name?"
The black mech turned back to face the others and snorted. "Shadowdancer."
Optic ridges rose curiously. "Shadow-?"
He put his hands on his hips and gave them a smug look. "Yep, 'cuz I dance in the shadows."
The blue and red mechs looked at each other in disbelief.
"Sounds like a femme's name." The red one smirked.
The black youngling snarled, launching himself at the others and they scuffled on the sidewalk again. But the mech was overpowered by the red and blue mechs and they held him down. "Surrender?"
"Not to you two glitch-mice."
There was a grease gun instantly in his face and the blue youngling smirked. "Surrender or eat grease."
A look was passed between the two and the blue mech started to squirt grease on the black youngling. "Surrender?"
He tried to turn away from the nozzle of the gun. "Okay! I give."
They let him up slowly as he wiped the grease off his face. He eyed both of them as they shared a very smug look. "What are your names?"
The blue mech handed the grease gun back to the youngling. "Thundercracker."
"Starscream." The red mech crossed his arms over his chest. "What's your real name?"
The black youngling looked at the grease gun and smirked mischievously as he aimed at the other two. "Skywarp."
A/N: Like it? Hate it? Please let me know!