Prisoner Aftermath

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Megatron Robustus Goa
<Decepticon> Megatron says, "Decepticons Goa and Robustus report!"
<Decepticon> Robustus says, "Robustus in med bay, sir."
<Decepticon> Goa says, "Goa here. Off duty."
<Decepticon> Megatron should have been more precise. sorry.. "Report to the Throne Room. Now."
<Decepticon> Robustus says, "Right away, sir."
<Decepticon> Goa says, "En route..."
Robustus strides into the throne room, having two guesses what this is going to be about. Either he found out about the trip he and Shred took to the Dead End or this is concerning Chimera. Either way, he is not looking forward to it, but is prepared to cope in either regard. He takes his spot where the light shines down upon him and kneels upon one knee. "Robustus reporting as ordered, sir."
Goa catches up a bit after Robustus, kneeling beside him. Given his list of offenses, he can only presume this is about the most recent ... a mech can hope, though. He steeples his fingers in front of his downturned helmet. "Sir."
Megatron is sitting in his metal throne, his fingers tapping the arm impatiently. Finally, when both Decepticons report. "Took you two long enough, "Megatron rasps. He sets the tone immediately with, "You have exactly ONE Breem to tell me why I shouldn't turn you into slag!" Megatron yells, his anger imminent.
Robustus refuses to flinch, to do so would show weakness. He glances over at Goa though with a neutral expression, trying to judge if the grounder would flinch or break under pressure, then he looks up toward Megatron. "My Lord, if this is concerning Chimera I assure you that neither of us knew she was capable of breaking her bonds."
Goa looks up to stare Megatron in the optics. The roller shows little signal of fear -- he had the chance to steel himself before flying up here, it would seem. "Why should you, Lord Megatron?" His curiosity overpowers his self-preservation. After Robustus speaks, he glances over to the medic a moment, then back upward. "What he said."
"SILENCE!" Megatron yells in response to Robustus' statement. "I will NOT listen to such an excuse! Your failure to follow a simple order is the reason she escaped in the first place!" Megatron flips a switch, turning more interrogation lights on, the heat of them beaming down onto the pair. "And as for you, Goa, I fail to see why you were there in the first place." Megatron growls, leaning forward in his throne.
Robustus frowns a bit, he was caught there. He had allowed Goa to have his moment with the femme and this is how it’s going to end for them both. "I accept my failure, my Lord." he intones, bowing his head and looking to the floor.
Goa suddenly quails. He hadn't ... slag, he had a point. This was technically on his hands. He narrows his optics, but doesn't break off. "I needed to talk to her, sir." His head tilts slightly to the side, toward Robustus -- oh, so is this all that talk of nobility? Well, slag that. Goa wasn't about to take a fall where he didn't have to. "Chimera and I go back a bit. Thought I might be able to get through to her." Doubting. He was already deep in it, may as well be honest.
Megatron’s red optics narrow as he hears Goa tell him he had to talk to Chimera. Though Megatron does approve of Robustus accepting responsibility for his action - he just doesn't show it. Megatron keeps the pressure up on Goa. "Did I authorize such a visit? I think NOT!" Megatron rasps, his anger now fully directed at Goa. "So now I have YOU to fully blame on this mess!" Megatron places the responsibility of Chimera's escape squarely on the grounder's shoulders.
Robustus speaks up, "My Lord, Goa should not bear that burden alone. I am willing to accept my responsibility in allowing him to speak with her. We both thought we were getting through to her, then she got free of her bonds and attacked us both."
Goa straightens his back out. The beginning of a snarl tugs at his lips. "Let me hunt her down, sir." It made sense. Their names would be cleared, the original objective accomplished. "I'm guilty as charged. I shirked protocol." Or was unaware of it. "I don't know about Robustus, given he violated an order. But give me a chance."
Megatron taps his metal fingers on his throne, spending a minute to decide on what to do. "Finally!" Megatron exclaims, his raspy voice echoing throughout the chamber. "Do you hear that, Goa!" Megatron yells Goa's name loudly, hoping his words finally get through his dense head. "A Mech willing to tell his EMPORER the truth! A Mech willing to accept responsibility for his actions!" Megatron growls, having to interrogate Goa in the past just to get the most basic of information. "And what I will be doing with you two is MY decision!" Megatron rasps, continuing to tap his metal fingers on his throne, considering what to do with the pair. He considers an appropriate punishment to teach them the importance of following orders.. Hmmm..
Robustus glances sidelong at the snarling Goa and sighs softly. Saying nothing, just awaiting the decision that Megatron will come to as he remains knelt there. Hopefully Goa will do likewise, but somehow he doubts it.
Goa twitches his antennae just slightly with indignancy, then drops his gaze to the floor. He's lost this round, and he knows it. But don't let a slagging soul say he didn't try. "Sir," he acknowledges. Beyond that, he sees fit to keep his mouth shut.
Megatron's got it. Nothing like taking away the free time to get his point across. Megatron doles out the punishment. "Both of you will learn what it means to follow orders. During the off-duty time of your cycle, you will report to and sign in with the twenty-four hour Duty Officer every hour, on the hour. You will conduct this corrective action for the period of seven cycles." Megatron rasps, his decision made. "Now get out of my sight." Megatron dismisses the pair, with his raspy command.
Robustus inclines his head, "As you wish, my Lord." he states, getting up to his feet and heading toward the door. Seven cycles.. yikes.. so much for rest and recharge!
Goa makes a concerted effort to strip all malice from his voice. "Yes, sir." No fear of punishment for him, sneaking in naps is nothing new. But was this going to be a thing? Proving a point, instead of getting the problem solved? Slag not second-guessing. Goa was second-guessing, alright. He stands, crisply salutes, and harbor's a moment's glare of ... calculation. Then he marches out.
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