[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Backstage [Megatron]

[Megatron]

Settling the matter of Starscream and his deeds aside for the moment, Megatron asked Soundwave candidly, "Is there anything else weighing down your spark?" His words were coarse yet even-tempered, just as he'd spoken when the Spymaster first arrived.

The Warlord almost sounded concerned or even empathetic towards his friend.

Whatever brief semblance of negative emotion their short conversation elicited was past now that they worked through it. This was the side of Megatron few people got to see. Not even Starscream. There had been another once in the past in whom he confided and trusted so, a long time ago.

No more. Never again.

Soundwave was his sole confidant now.

The only one who understood his vision. The only one who did not ask questions. The only one who would never betray his trust. And so, in his presence and his presence alone, did the old warrior feel safe enough to ask. He knew full well that in his absence, it was often Soundwave who held the Decepticons together. For a better bot to stand in his shadow, he couldn't ask.

And yet, such tasks could take their toll.

Many could not see past Soundwave's silent exterior, assumed he was as alien to them as they were to the humans. But Megatron knew better. In spite of his unique biology and powers, in spite of the vow of silence, Soundwave was still a Cybertronian. And as any of them, he too could be troubled by circumstances or haunted by the past.

Megatron himself knew the burden of responsibility.

Perhaps his Spymaster felt it eat away as well of late? He did not assume, but nonetheless offered room for Soundwave to speak in whatever manner he saw fit. Rare were the moments they could simply discuss matters on their terms. Very soon, Megatron's plans would force them into action again, and it might be years or even centuries before the next opportunity arose.

If Soundwave had aught personal to say, now was the time.

[Soundwave]

The one issue that weighed upon him, the most grandiose burden that settled on his shoulders... it was not something with their soldiers, or any issues within the mines. It was not trying to keep a bead on all the newcomers to this world and catalog their skills to then compare to what they showed out on the field. Nor was it his everlasting search for the Autobots themselves that seemed to be halted into a sort of limbo, watching over the human children and their immediate families to have as available bait when required. No. It was the state of the Nemesis, and his relative helplessness to have it progress any faster than it already was.

The fall of the Warship... it felt like a grandiose smear across his record. Failures in the past had occurred, he was not perfect. From missions that went upside down, to systems having hard crashes when a mistake was made somewhere along the line that he missed, to everything in between that could derail things a moment before they could be pulled back into place once again. The large swath of time, so many countless years, they were muddled beneath many victories that helped cement his status and rank beyond being present from the onset. While they may have cost lives, or supplies, nothing felt like it mattered as much as the Warship that had crashed down to the sea's depths.

On Cybertron, it would not be as large an issue. Poach parts and supplies, work within a familiar world and utilize another salvaged ship in the meantime. Adapt, sidestep, keep going. Here on Earth, it was different. They had no warship to temporarily use, nor was there enough immediate supplies to start repairs instantly. The fact it was underneath the oppressing force of the ocean overlayed even more problems on top of an already grim blow to their forward momentum.

Soundwave seemed to hesitate after the question was asked, black visor staring back at Megatron blankly. No tilt of the helm was offered, no flicker of light for a visual to play across the screen, nor a pulse of recordings to try to articulate what he thought with the words of another.

It wasn't his fault, yet it was. The illness... he could clearly remember what it felt like, the data burned into his systems. The straight up raw hate that led to trying to take down as much and as many as he could in a devastatingly efficient strike. It could only be made more destructive if he had crashed the Nemesis into one of their most lucrative mines, causing a horrific detonation that would rupture both beyond repair or value. He thankfully had been too motivated to act promptly rather than bide his time, yet that did not negate what had occurred. Illness or not, logic should have been overcome, and in those moments...

It didn’t.

At these thoughts, Soundwave moved, his long arm raising to place over a muddled weld that was planted along his side. It was muted down, painted, obscured within the darkness of his inner framework where others likely never noticed it at all. Yet it was there, a sign of the removal of the physical defect of an object that was manifested by the disease. The weld could be buffed away, but no time had been given to it, too busy with what had been going on and the attempts to rectify the greater problem at hand.

It wasn't an injury Soundwave was lamenting. Megatron would know that instantly. He wasn't showing weakness for a wound. It was a keystone to point out the real issue at hand.

To draw attention to this said much, bringing up the topic without even the faintest of words to articulate it.

[Megatron]

It was then that the Warlord put some distance between him and Soundwave, looping his hands behind his back and raising a slanted brow at the display. His expression betrayed nothing—no anger, no compassion, no confusion, not even understanding. Perhaps he had no emotions to spare, or he simply forgot how to treat a comrade in times of doubt and hardship. This uncertainty lingered in the air for a few brief seconds, before the old warrior let out a drawn-out sigh.

"Ah, the setback you have incurred in the wake of Cruor yet troubles your mind—as it does mine."

His words hung heavy, but the tone did not seem to attack Soundwave's position or vulnerability. Instead, just the slightest hint of remorse crept into Megatron's harsh tone, one only known to those closest to him. Had he bellowed the same words in his signature rumbling voice at a hapless soldier, the situation would be different altogether. Just as Megatron himself learned to understand the Spymaster's subtle body language and hidden meanings, so too would the other know that these were not words of disappointment or anger, but ones of sympathy; rare though it was coming from Megatron's mouth.

"I have considered restrictions which would limit your ability to cause such widespread devastation ever again," he admitted, "However, your stellar cycles of loyal service disincline me from taking drastic measures—for now."

Soundwave needed no coddling, nor was Megatron about to start offering any. He knew that the other mech could handle the truth, for if he did not, they would not be allies nor friends. There was no time to wrap every sentiment in a package of praise and roundabout white lies. If nothing else, honesty should be appreciated at this juncture. Megatron had a habit of withdrawing his intentions from even his closest confidants, so it was an immense privilege that Soundwave now enjoyed.

"Perhaps you would serve me and your conscience better if you ceased contemplating your inability in the past and instead remained focused on the future. We have much to accomplish."

Megatron did not offer comfort often. Over the millennia, his ability to do so diminished significantly. His words were stilted and rough, and yet in this fleeting moment, a small afterimage of that distant, old self crept into the foreground. This was the voice of a great liberator, a gladiator with honor and integrity. One who has long since been buried under the wizened, cruel tyrant's exoskeleton, forgotten by all but few—even by Megatron himself.

This goodness would not last, but perhaps it would please Soundwave to know that his leader did not lose himself to the ravages of time and Dark Energon entirely. Of course, nobody outside of this room would ever know. The Spymaster would take this interaction to the grave as so many others in the past, and it would die with him. Megatron counted on it. This was their unspoken contract. The cost of being who they were.

[Soundwave]

Soundwave would not fault Megatron should he take measures to buffer and control what he did in the future. It would be wise to do such a thing so that an event on the magnitude of the Nemeses' fall would be much less likely to occur once more. A second set of eyes to create greater checks and balances, a delay in major changes for secondary approvals if needed... Soundwave held more power than most when it came to the Decepticons. He had the ability to command the Space Bridge at will, able to direct and produce portals with only a few fleeting moments of calculation. He also had the base's systems always at his fingertips, able to pull strings and manipulate them to his benefit should he choose to do so. The thing was however, what he chose to do was always in favor of the Decepticon cause, there being no selfish desire behind his actions.

The most selfish of things he did were mundane, such as what was shown earlier when he used the bridge to escape the mines faster than he could do by running or flight for his own safety.

This understanding meant that what could be seen as an ominous statement from Megatron, if not threatening, did not bother him. Should it occur? It was a logical choice. Should it not? It too had its logic behind it. There was no sentimentality or grievances to be felt on such choices, only what steps were needed to be taken next. This thought process, it was mirrored by the silver mech a mere moment later, to simply accept what had been done, and look forward towards their new goals.

At the conclusions of these words, Soundwave's arm would relax down to his side once again, taking on the stance most saw him in when he wasn't actively working at the computer terminal. It was an inert sort of being, standing in wait, looking for some sort of information or an action that needed to be addressed. Or simply, standing in recording, his world an ever-running camera that snapshotted memories into a long woven chain.

He did as Megatron said, casting the prior discussion aside to focus on where the Warlord's next ambitions lay.

[Megatron]

Megatron remained silent for a good while, during which he neatly folded his hands flat against the small of his back yet again, adjusted his posture, making him look somewhat larger and more commanding. There was the Warlord Soundwave knew. The Megatron of the present-day. Ever prepared to command and fight.

"Now, as I have alluded to previously, we must turn our attention to increased surveillance and security. If not for the sake of my designs, then to crush Starscream's propensity for deception."

His voice drowned out the silence in the room, echoing with a deep firmness. The Warlord raised it for emphasis, suggesting that there was more at stake now than before. Perhaps it had to do with the recent revelation regarding his second-in-command or the weapon restoration project.

The base was not unsafe by any stretch, yet Megatron now had a means by which to secure his victory on this world. It was an advantage he could not afford to lose, and he had already fully intended to consult Soundwave for added security measures—what he'd seen of Starscream today would only confirm this necessity. The air commander was bold enough to question his authority and decisions several times when they recovered the materials today. Megatron also knew Starscream had his reservations about the Hymn from the very beginning, which he could tolerate, had he not also tried to enlist the aid of a Decepticon defector.

"Any wise suggestions, Soundwave?" While he spoke, the Warlord waved a mighty servo from behind his back for emphasis before letting it rest once more. It seemed to be an almost teasing question. Had it not been said under such grave circumstances, perhaps the Spymaster could rightfully assume sarcasm—yet Megatron remained resolute.

This was no laughing matter.

Even without Starscream to account for, there were many possible weak links given the Lord's prolonged absence. He could not allow to see them break and destroy the mighty Decepticon chain. Fear and tyranny would rule and give the less willful Decepticons cause not to act upon their small-minded impulses. But the methods were for Soundwave alone to decide. A sign that Megatron's trust in him has not diminished despite the Cruor incident, should the Spymaster require any further assurances that this was the case.

[Soundwave]

Megatron would not need to prompt once more, as barely a second of time flicked past before Soundwave's visor illuminated with the faintest of crackle.

It was a map of the surrounding wilderness and topography, thin wireframes running across the ground plane while a scanning pulse radiated from the bottommost corner like that of a sonar's beam. The first time the map was passed by this line, there were white marker blips and marks that shone around in specific points. They were far from random however, skirting along the points of the immediate area that would be most akin to be used as a path one would take at foot, tactical and precise. An element of Pyrotech's skill.

After this visual was shown, the aerial map would zoom out more, showing a greater coverage of the landscape. The white markers were still visible, before a second radiated pulse rippled out, this time leaving the white marks as well as highlighting numerous new red ones with faint chirps. As with the others, these focused around the easiest to navigate points, choosing tactics over a broad vomit of sensors and markers that would be a waste of resources, time, and effort. It was a rough guess however, it would be calculated further into real points should this plan be taken into account.

At this moment, it was merely a visual.

Simple glyphs would mark vertically along the rightmost edge of this screen, confirming that this was a proposition for additional sensors that could try to pick up on Autobots or other threats approaching earlier than they may otherwise. It didn't come without risk however, more sensors, more chance they could be seen... but Pyrotech was a clever individual, and Soundwave trusted him with this topic over all others as it had once been his domain. The devices would be hidden, and they would be hidden in the correct location for the most effective results.

These would do well to stop a ground-based approach to Blackridge, though it would do little in regards to Megatron's desire to keep better tabs on Starscream. That was where things took a trickier turn in which there was never a concrete solution. There would be attempts made, plans put into place to try to cut down his manipulations, but the fact of the matter was it would never be flawless.

His use of the Space Bridge could be monitored just like anyone else, his departures and entrances locally could be tracked, as were his visits to any of the mines. This only worked however so long as the evidence wasn't tampered with, which Starscream had become exceedingly good at. Soundwave could catch most of these edited files, accustomed to trying to look for them, however he knew despite such efforts many could have slipped between his fingers.

All of that was moot however when a jet of his caliber could rocket elsewhere without a paper trail. He could be anywhere in this world, or the immediate upper atmosphere, in under a days' time.

Trackers were pointless. They would be circumvented. More diligent monitoring of the logs could be attempted, but that game was already being played. Even now, at this moment, there was no real hard evidence of just WHERE the Seeker was.

No, Soundwave didn't focus on that. He moved on to more factual methods for security in other means,

The screen would then flick to a series of reports, showing guard shifts and the slew of soldiers at their disposal. Elevating such posts would be no issue. Adding an additional trooper to a specific point of concern here or there... Some longer routes... There were always means to work around it. This report scrolled past abruptly, to show that despite the crash they still had an abundance of individuals at command. It then sifted and wrenched away every numerical that belonged to an Eradicon soldier, their names blacking out as the list compressed in sharp pops, showing how many Vehicons remained.

Those who may be less attached to the Skylord.

Ideal guards for the most vital of acquired goods.

[Megatron]

"Make it so, then. In this matter, I defer to your judgement," Megatron answered plainly after contemplating something fierce for a while. Perhaps the added risk of exposure, though that never concerned the Warlord himself in particular and was a call the Decepticons made out of necessity, so it might have been another matter instead.

Fortunately for Soundwave, his liege did not intend on keeping his thoughts to himself. He moved over to a table somewhere by the center of the room. Its surface was black and reflective, at least until such a time as Megatron placed his sharp fingertips on top of it. Lighting up with a soft, purple hue, the table displayed a significant amount of data.

The Spymaster would recognize most of these readouts. A list of their Energon mines, another of their productivity, of each and every miner within their ranks who toiled down below, and those who had been permitted to rest for the day. However, one of the sections stood out from the rest, a display with contents designed by Megatron himself.

It was a projected schedule, one which would tax the well-being and abilities of their miners terribly, but nonetheless one which would also greatly increase their short-term productivity. The Warlord stared at it with a grim mien, perhaps a sliver of his old self lamenting the "necessity" of what was to come. So quickly silenced by the thoughts of domination and cruel command. So quickly outweighed by the hatred. Sympathy had little room, even as he set about to expose his loyal servants to the selfsame treatment he had suffered.

A long-forgotten injustice. How distant that memory?

"Upon my return, I took the liberty of preparing this schedule for our most profitable mines. Today, I will address the Decepticons entire and following that, you will spread these instructions with my authority," he tasked his Spymaster with gravitas.

Normally, Megatron was above managing his own mines, as was Soundwave above taking care of their directives, but his trust in Starscream to do the job has grown far too thin. He hoped the navy mech would understand. This was not a permanent measure, but one born of momentary preparation. The stocks they had amassed in his absence were sufficient for now, but the weapon and the Nemesis would require a greater abundance than that, especially if he wished to unleash the Hymn more than once.

And he did.

They had to make ready for war on a scale unlike anything they have unleashed during their time on Earth thus far. Those with the most resources and the most powerful equipment would triumph, even should a few miners protest their conditions or break in the process. He did not care. He did not care for centuries. He was cruel. He knew he was, but he also knew that he would stand victorious.

[Soundwave]

As Megatron moved to the table, so too did Soundwave, coming to a rest at the side of the screen so that he could see what other goals were in mind. While he fully expected to be given a copy of whatever report was displayed, it was equally expected that Soundwave logged everything he saw as quickly as his unseen gaze passed over it. It was a subconscious thing, a mechanical approach that he did in his day-to-day life. Always noting everything that could possibly be valuable later, and commands from their leader were most certainly within the parameters of 'valuable'. Yet, what was shown was not an easy change.

A featureless helm angled somewhat in Megatron's direction after the information was absorbed, a sort of side eye to look at the mech's expressions from the furthest edges of his field of view.

The irony was not lost on Soundwave... exploiting those in 'lesser' roles to fuel the commands of a leader figure... it was an old song that had been sung by many in the years, heard upon just as many worlds. It was a never-ending element that refused to be extinguished, the difference was simply just what title was placed upon it. There was solace however that such suffering would not fuel the rich and socially wealthy, so much than it propelled them towards their ultimate goal and the end of this war.

Yet... there was a threat however of burning a candle at both ends. It was taking a reliable system that had steadily turned out a consistent flow of fuel for their stockpiles, and then turning it upside down. They had such a large supply that the sudden push for a metaphorical sprint in labor and strain almost caught Soundwave off guard. That is... until he swiftly put together what elements would require such amounts.

The Nemesis recovery project would use an abundance of Energon, that was a fact that could not be denied. This would strike their reserves hard, and evidently it sounded as though the weapon would use just as much when utilized. With destructive force came a destructive consumption of some form, both metaphorical and literal. Soundwave did not have parameters on what said weapon would utilize, or if it was even the intended target for this surge.

There was always more than what lay on surface values, and so Soundwave did not put much focus into his concerns. Should this strenuous movement continue too long, he may suggest otherwise, but he had no reason to believe this was a permanent alteration that would serve indefinitely. For now, it was law.

A law that would be distributed the very moment Megatron willed it.

[Megatron]

Seeing the closest thing which would pass for understanding from Soundwave, Megatron brought his hand to the display one more time to silence its droning whirr and to disable the readouts. For a while, the room became as it had been when they first met here today—silent. The Warlord and his loyal friend, met face-to-face above a war table.

After eons, some things did not change, even if the circumstances did.

This time, Megatron sensed that his actions would see the Decepticons taxed to their meager limits on this world, and so he felt a strange need to reassure Soundwave, despite the mech's full awareness, that these methods would be only temporary.

"Lest you concern yourself with the morality of my decision, be assured that these measures will only apply until such a time as our reserves meet the quota. Dismiss any objections from our troops with this knowledge, and failing that, assert my command in whatever way you see fit."

His voice carried a calm gravitas only few people were capable of it. The weight of leadership pushed one word after another. It would appear that not all good sense had left Megatron, and he understood full well the drawbacks his new edicts may incur. And yet, despite the danger, he would have to proceed regardless.

Starscream's handling of their Energon mines was sufficient for what modicum of recovery they had clawed out for themselves at Blackridge, but the weapon and the Nemesis would ask for far more than that. They would have to monitor their mining operations closely, and their consumption and stock even closer. This fact went unsaid, but the old Decepticon Lord expected Soundwave to understand such necessities by implication given the context in which his words were said.

And one other thing...

"Should you need enforcers to do so, you may select those you deem loyal to oversee these mines with my blessing."

A final mercy in an otherwise merciless situation.

Megatron was willing to facilitate Soundwave's role in this, trusting the Spymaster to discern those deserving of the position. Though, perhaps a small sliver of him naively hoped that there would be no pushback, that the others could see past the current moment and no repressive measures would be required. Among the Decepticons, such foresight was rare, which put all the more pressure on Soundwave and Megatron to offer it.

And so, it remained a vain, thin hope.

[Soundwave]

In the momentary silence, the sound of the base could be heard once again. Soft, quiet, a muffled sort of ambiance that picked up and carried every anomaly all the better across its stone walls. Distant hums of a generator, perhaps the faintest of noise of footfalls and words... much was blotted out from the isolation of Megatron's quarters, and the door itself that was a rare anomaly in this outpost did not hurt in furthering the emptiness. A continuous reminder that this was no Nemesis at all, lacking the growl of the massive warship that fell into the backdrop. It made the few fleeting seconds all the more void, until Megatron's words cut in.

Words caught Soundwave's attention that much more.

Soundwave being appointed a role of an enforcer or direct leader over troops was not an element often utilized. Others tended to fill such parameters better than himself, whether by availability, or simply by experience alone to permit the navy mech to keep on his current objectives. However, it wasn't unheard of. Some missions, mostly infiltration oriented, had been handled in the past, with only a few more confrontational jobs done here or there through the countless years. Abnormal. Atypical. Yet the situation that pushed this anomaly to the surface was easy enough to understand. Easy to see why it couldn't be given to others without potential backlash.

Only a sort of side glance was offered to Megatron at this, both at the idea he would be in control of soldiers directly, as well as the underlying notion that such measures would need to be taken at all. Insubordination did not end well among their ranks, and as such, Soundwave did not feel measures on this level would be required at all in the coming days, or weeks... ideally not months. The Vehicon and Eradicon soldiers would be more than sufficient to push the mining class operatives forward until threads wore too thin. The Nemesis had to be raised before then. It simply had to be.

Soundwave would have it no other way.

Easing his weight back somewhat onto his heel, the navy mech's helm would crook over to finally look at Megatron head on rather than at an angle.

There was no more to speak of as far as Soundwave was aware. He could certainly go into more details of what had occurred in Megatron's absence, yet all relevant information was already included in the more in-depth report that had been handed over. A report that held both facts as well as bits of his own thoughts and commentary, including data on some social dynamics between some of the soldiers to be aware of, should the need come to exploit such factors. Those who were new and sought to smuggle and cheat... those who live ignorant and try to assist in trivial means...

With this in mind, Soundwave’s relaxed and eased stance shifted subtly, his left leg lifting just enough to clear the heel, before moving to place down at a different angle.

Almost as though he were about to turn away.

A question and declaration in one. Both asking if there was more that he needed to be aware of from Megatron, while also saying that he had no further issues that needed to be immediately brought up. Soundwave also knew Megatron had been gone for a fair bit of time, and rest would always be needed, even to the most brutally strong.

[Megatron]

The Warlord did not pressure Soundwave for anything further, even as he was about to turn and make his leave. He, too, did avoid using words to answer the unspoken question and request, offering but the plainest and most ordinary of nods. Having thus released the Spymaster, Megatron took a step back from the table console, and from thereon, the room grew dim once more. A weary expression came over him fleetingly, as if suggesting that he has done his part for the day and intended to rest for a while before addressing the troops as he'd explained.

Yet the old gladiator did not dare to leave the following words unsaid ere his old friend withdrew into the shadows as he was wont to do.

"Soundwave," a stern, direct address, "Do not overexert yourself in exercising the duties you have been assigned."

A cruel irony that Megatron should urge the mech thus, considering the edicts he would impose upon those of lesser stations. However, there was a twisted logic to this. With Starscream at the peak of his untrustworthiness, the greater part of Megatron's designs would fall upon the Spymaster for the moment. This needed no explanation. But the Warlord could ill afford these added responsibilities to break his consigliere, even as he maintained the duties of present day alongside them.

This arrangement was also to be temporary, much like the one in the mines, during which Soundwave had to remain in his prime, as did Megatron, and as did every other person of import among the Decepticons to compensate for the setbacks incurred. In some ways, these circumstances could feel like a punishment or a test. His words, spoken so deeply and firmly, were meant to reassure Soundwave that this was neither and that he was to exercise due self-preservation, something the Spymaster had in notoriously short supply when push came to shove. He could be singular in his service to Megatron, yes, but that also came with the drawback of stretching his limits to absolutes.

The old Warlord may have very well been the only person to know or care about how taxing this could be on Soundwave, but that was his sole parting statement. This conversation was over, left to be unheard and unseen by any other for all the times to come. Such was their nature.

[Soundwave]

In but a few, fleeting words, Megatron's statement held with it an entire conversation and different interpretations. Upon the outermost layer, it was an official directive of sorts. Below that, it was an act of mercy, one that was not being offered to the mining class Decepticons. Yet, beyond even that, there was a sort of futility to the entire utterance. A formality that would ultimately amount to nothing of value being done differently. This was one of those rare events where the words of the Warlord were not heard as law. They were slotted under the classifier of 'Social Commentary', rather than a true military order to rest before a larger event.

Since Soundwave had no plans of slowing down.

He could handle pressing forward in his steady pursuit, determined to do what was needed without complaint, nor taking breaks beyond those that were necessary. Soundwave did not seek social interaction, nor did he need moments of reprieve to sit down and enjoy a meal in silence. They were wastes of time, being a source of more irritation than value, contributing nothing to his, or the Decepticons, goals. This mindset was likely what made him seem more mechanical than biological to others.

Constant work. Perpetual dedication to the cause.

To others, it wasn’t rare for Soundwave to be seen as something other than a true Cybertronian due to the way he conducted himself. His choice of communication, or lack thereof. His constant, silent surveillance and ominous presence. His non-stop work and limited time away from his posts... It was who he was, as rumor and truth often worked hand in hand, one unable to survive without support from the other.

Perhaps Megatron saw something however in this limited interaction between them. A flicker beneath the already subtle layers to their discussions that Soundwave himself had missed. Yet, there was likely nothing truly there. Instead, acting off experience and the plain truth that the navy mech was not one to ease back should a goal be in sight, putting the cause above himself readily whenever it was required.

Whatever the case may be... whatever way the words could be spun or interpreted... Soundwave simply stared back at Megatron for a brief moment, a pause that was just long enough to show that he had heard the statement, before he dipped his helm back level and moved to turn fully.

Should there be nothing more said, he would take his leave, letting Megatron rest should he seek it.