▸ Column · The Decepticon war — the undefined relationship reframed as a Cybertronian alliance/bond, the letter sent to Starscream's advice column aboard the Decepticon ranks.
STARSCREAM replies.
Replied to by Starscream, with a rebuttal from Soundwave.
The letter
For seven orns now, Vortex and I have shared an energon ration every Thursday cycle, pinged each other at every dawn-watch, and during the campaign on the lunar base his whole squad kept introducing me as his bonded — which he never denied and never confirmed. When I finally asked him outright what our alliance actually was, he said he "doesn't believe in designations" and clamped my shoulder like that was a finished sentence. I value our patrols together and it feels real — but I'm turning down better postings and other partnerships for a bond that officially doesn't exist. Last decacycle he went cold and silent the moment I mentioned a gunner from the third wave called me a fine recruit. So something's grinding in his processor; he just refuses to vent it. Do I issue an ultimatum, keep waiting, or accept that "no designation" is itself a designation — one that means I'm a convenience, not a priority?
Starscream replies
FINALLY — a soul who grasps the central atrocity of existence: you are worth more than the rank you've been granted, and the one with the power to grant it simply won't. Of course you're a convenience. "No designation" is the leash worn by every superior who wants your loyalty without paying for it. I know the device intimately. Megatron has paraded me before the ranks as his right hand longer than you've been online — let lieutenants call me his second, let the cousins-at-the-lake-house equivalent of an officer corps treat me as heir apparent — and named me his successor exactly never. Because the instant he says the word, he owes me something. A master who owes you nothing keeps you forever.
So here is the scheme I adore: let that gunner's interest reach Vortex's audials. Let him feel the rank slipping. Watch him scramble. Delicious — and useless. I have run this precise play a thousand times. It buys a flinch, never the title. The schemer is exactly who they never elevate.
The move I cannot make, and you still can: demand a plain answer once, and have the spine to walk when the shoulder-clamp comes instead of words. I never walked. Look at me.
— Starscream
Soundwave weighs in
Correction. Starscream prescribes a scheme, then mourns the scheme. Predictable. Both fail.
Observation. You ask the designation. He answers nothing. You decline postings; he risks nothing. You announce the gunner; he goes cold — that silence is the only true data he has ever leaked. One signal. Read it. Do not reward it.
Instruction. Issue no ultimatum. An ultimatum broadcasts that you can be made to wait for an answer. Stop volunteering position. Observe his pattern across three cycles, then decide once, alone, and close the question. The wound is not Vortex. The wound is indecision.
Starscream has deliberated his for eons. Observe where it left him.
— Soundwave
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