Post-Meeting Bickering

November 26, 2011
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Megatron Starscream
(Throne Room, Polyhex)
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Starscream stalks around now that the last of the stragglers finally left. His wings held high, almost as if affronted, and his expression sour. "This business about gestalt tech has *not* been explained to my satisfaction! Random? Why leave things to chance when the Autobots have one *now*?" 
Megatron rises to his feet and advances on the fuming Seeker, his optics shining a bright, pitiless red. "Leave things to chance, Starscream?" 
Starscream looks up, wondering where the temper had come from. "Yes, oh glorious Leader, to chance! Testing? Why not build them to spec? Getting these poor excuses for soldiers to work as a unit is difficult enough...to merge?" Starscream shudders. 
Megatron's optics widen. "Build them?" It's not a *terrible* idea, no, and it's certainly something worth considering, but... "No. Not when we don't yet know what this technology does. Tell me, Starscream. What happens if we build each member of this team to complement one another perfectly, to know one another's mind and spark at each moment, to react and respond perfectly as a unit -- and only later explain to them their place in this faction?" He shakes his head. "We cannot do that -- not until we know for certain what this programming actually does. Otherwise, we run the risk of whatever weapon we create deciding its primary allegiance is only to itself." 
Starscream considers this seriously for a moment. "Even *I* must admit that makes sense. It still rankles me to no end that that Autobot was simply allowed to waltz out of here..." Starscream's optics flicker slightly. "How are we to find them? Identify them? A /laser core/ scanner? Shockwave has his head jammed so far up his aft that his optic shines through every time his vents shift. More direct methods are required!" he declares. 
Megatron's frame rumbles dangerously. "Shockwave has done extensive research and analysis, gleaning more valuable information than anyone would have thought possible with the limited information we were able to collect." He scowls, as displeased as Starscream is by the loss of the prisoner. "I would not disparage his methods if I were you." He smirks. "Unless you have something better to offer." 
"As I said, recapturing the Autobot or one of his ilk, reverse engineer from there..." Starscream smirks right back. "Sending in an imposter would be simplicity itself." 
"Simplicity itself, Starscream?" Megatron shakes his head. "It never ceases to astound me that you can have so many excellent ideas and yet fail so thoroughly to think them through. The gestalt members will no doubt be heavily guarded after we succeeded in capturing them once. Do you have plans to circumvent this, or is this simply about your personal distaste for Shockwave's methods?" 
Starscream scowls. "As far as I know, nothing penetrates that shifter's disguises, the one you hired before. For all intents and purposes he /becomes/ his target, correct? Use him."
Megatron pauses, considering. "That *is* a clever idea," he admits. "But surely you have the processing power to understand how disastrous it would be for us should he fail -- or betray us to our enemies." He fixes his gaze on Starscream. "Which means that we go ahead with both plans. Shockwave's *and* yours. That way, if Makeshift fails, the project itself continues. If he does not, we can use whatever else we discover to augment what we are already doing." 
Starscream scowls. "Fine. But I still think that my idea is better than /his/." Starscream takes a few steps closer. "I am far /more/ useful than Shockwave." 
Megatron glares at Starscream. "When you decide to be." 
Starscream shrieks. "What?" His face twists into an oddly attractive pout. "How /dare/ you!" 
Megatron's optics flare in a combination of irritation and amusement. He also steps closer, laying a hand on the edge of Starscream's wing. He does nothing threatening for now, simply leaving his hand there as a combination reminder and warning. "How dare *I*? The very thing you scorn him for is the very thing that makes him steadfastly useful to me. Or are you saying that, from this day forward, you intend to focus on your duties alone, as he does?" He chuckles. 
Starscream stiffens, not sure what to make of this. "My /lord/, I /always/ focus on my duties. All of them. Too bad that includes pointing out when you have a mindless aftkisser in your army, though." Starscream doesn't pull away, he knows better. 
Megatron tightens his grip on Starscream's wing, but only slightly for now. "When you're not plotting against me, yes." 
Starscream stutters just a bit at the pressure. "I don't plot against you, my lord!" Not since last time, anyway...well, that's not true, but Megatron has no idea. 
Megatron smirks, his grip tightening. "No? I suppose all those times you've loudly bemoaned my perceived incompetence you've been doing... what, exactly?" 
"It was me pointing out your....oh...obvious flaws!" Starscream hisses, looking up into those flaring crimson optics. "If you were actually the leader you /should/ be, I wouldn't need to waste my time taking my rightful place..." 
Megatron's optics flare. He gives Starscream's wing a sudden, vicious wrench and then pulls his hand away, tightening it into a dark fist. "Your rightful place, Starscream? Shall I show you exactly what that is?" 
Starscream resists the impulse that runs through him at this moment and hisses between gritted denta. "If you think you can." 
Megatron chuckles darkly once and draws back his fist. He waits as long a moment as he dares and then strikes at Starscream's cockpit glass without warning, twisting to put the full force of his body into the blow. He feels the glass shatter around his hand, scratching at the plating there with a small shock of pain. 
Megatron shakes tiny, glittering shards of glass off of his fist, deliberately ignoring Starscream's outburst. He'd intended to kick Starscream's feet out from under him next, but the Seeker is already halfway to his knees already. His other hand seizes Starscream's wing on the side that's still upright and wrenches hard at it, pressing down. "All the way. Now." 
Starscream looks up defiantly. His cockpit /hurt/, but he was used to that. He struggles against the grip for a long moment before allowing himself to be forced down, his optics never leaving Megatron's face. "I allowed you to do that." he remarks, almost lightly, but the trembling in his wings and the hitch of his vents tells quite another story. 
"Allowed me to?" His frame rumbles with what might be rage, but it soon becomes clear is actually tightly controlled laughter. He wraps his hand around one of Starscream's ailerons, twisting it almost idly. "Tell me, what else will you 'allow' me?" he asks, the word laced thick with mockery. Then, in a sudden violent motion, he snaps the aileron off completely, holding it up as he might a keepsake or a present. 
Starscream 's optics almost go white when his aileron goes *snap*. "Primus...damn you!" he gasps, trying to regain control of his systems but his slagging *wing* is on fire..."Wouldn't /you/ like to know, oh great and powerful leader? Instead, you rip pieces from my frame like a common battle-drone..." Through the pain he manages an insolent smirk. 
Megatron smirks. "Well, if I'd known you would want it back so badly --" He tosses it in front of Starscream as if it were worthless. "Take it." 
He pauses a moment, and then fixes Starscream with an intense stare. "But understand that it's given to you at my whim. As is everything else you have, Seeker. Your attitude does not alter that one iota, and never will." 
Starscream glares at Megatron and throws the now worthless bit of himself right back. "Underclocked DRONE. If you're so /giving/, how about giving me what I want for a change?" He's still on his knees but every bit of him oozes defiance and pride. 
"You have everything you want," Megatron answers, his raspy voice suddenly quiet. "But if this is what it takes to remind you of it, I have no objections." His faceplates shift into their usual imperious smirk, and his fists fly into Starscream's wings without warning or pause, one blow coming on the heels of the last. It must hurt like hell, and that's exactly what Megatron is hoping for, a blaze of pain so intense that even Starscream's quick mind can't catch up to it. 
Starscream falls back, literally blinded by sensation at the moment. He lands on his back, not even noticing the additional sting on his wings as they are scratched by bits of golden cockpit glass. Utterly speechless for the moment, Starscream stares at the ceiling of the throne room, cooling fans working to dispel the heat of violence from his systems. He tries to speak, and all that comes out is a raspy cry. 
Megatron stops, hearing Starscream's cry. He lowers his hands just slightly, his faceplates fixed in a severe, satisfied grin. He watches and waits. He's said all he needs to say for the moment, and Starscream's silence is all the answer he needs. 
Starscream finally manages to sit up, his optics whirling madly. With broken cockpit glass and twin dents in his wings, not to nention the missing aileron, he'd be back in repair bay. Again. Starscream sighs. "My lord, I..." He stops. "Lord Megatron. What now." For once he's not being facetious or rude. 
Megatron chuckles, hearing the honorific spoken without bitterness or sarcasm. "That's better," he says. There's something strangely satisfying about this, about hearing Starscream speak those words and knowing he's wrested them from him. He values the loyalty of mechs like Soundwave and Shockwave deeply, but this -- *this* he earns. 
"As for what now --" he hesitates, his optics flickering, as if something flashes before them that only he can see -- "now, you get the repairs you need. Then you return to your duties, as Shockwave has to his." 
Starscream glares heatedly. "Yes, thanks to you I-" He stops, mindful of what he's said already. "Am I dismissed?" 
Megatron nods, still giving Starscream that odd little smile. "You are." 
Starscream nods just once, climbing to his pedes, salvaging what pride he has left as he leaves with an odd look and a silent grin. 
Megatron watches Starscream leave. Once the doors shut behind the Seeker, Megatron walks over to the discarded aileron and picks it up. Then he walks back to his throne and sits down. He holds the discarded object up, idly turning it around in his hand.
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