[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Discrepancies [Backbeat]

[Megatron]

Episode 3.5 | Week 1 | Day 4 | Closed

The minutiae of Decepticon leadership were rather less glamorous than some would like to think. For Megatron, Soundwave, and Starscream, such monitoring as Megatron decided to conduct today was simply a fact of being the leading triad. However, as the supreme of the three, Megatron often did not have to bother with something as insignificant as a routine discussion of stock with their indignant logistics specialist. Yet recent developments have forced him to reconsider trusting others with entreating the less respectable Decepticons among them.

When the Warlord discovered certain discrepancies between Energon production, consumption, and their current stock, it was only natural that he would see to eliminating the source of the problem personally. Fatally, if need be.

Indeed, the simple fact was: Someone skimmed off the top of their reserves over (or within) the last few months. Who? Megatron could not say, but naturally, his suspicions first fell upon the only non-Vehicon currently employed in any major logistic capacity full-time. In short, Backbeat was the prime target. With these circumstances in play, Megatron made certain to amply prepare himself for the meeting ahead. It was just about midday at Blackridge Hold, and he already awaited his subordinate in one of the many storage rooms dug out to store excess Energon for the base's purposes. Although far from their only stockpile, this was one of the more significant. Being surrounded by his duties in quite the literal sense, Backbeat could already suspect ahead of time that this was going to be no ordinary discussion.

The old Warlord stood by a tall stack of Energon cubes, gazing into their ambient, cyan glow. His back was turned to the entryway, and his hands laid flat against it. He seemed to have been lost deep in thought, but to assume that he was inattentive would be folly. In fact, Megatron took note of everything that went on behind him. The soldiers and miners fading in and out, coming to-and-fro. On schedule, most of them. Just as he had instructed. Soundwave must have already informed all of their workforce of the increased production. Still, a few drones were a bit late and a little sluggish. Megatron suspected that the new workload was taking its toll. With but a single medic to soothe their aches, they did not have the luxury of tending to minor injuries.

He was not concerned about their well-being. At least not yet.

The workers would get their rest soon enough, but first, he needed a stockpile for his projects. The Nemesis, the Hymn, and more. All required fuel. All required life. Which made the fact that someone acted against the best interest of his Decepticons all the more insulting. Someone's selfish greed was the reason that these miners now had to work double shifts at half the rest.

He would find out who, whether it truly was Backbeat or not.

[Deleted]

The room was a maze stacked supply crates, Energon cubes and other various sundries. In one of the few uncluttered areas of the room, two tired looking Eradicons sorted various crates of ammunition onto cargo pallets. They both immediately stopped what they were doing immediately once Megatron entered, saluting their leader before resuming their work. Albeit with less grumbling than before.


The cargo bay had quickly become known as Backbeat’s little fiefdom. The two Eradicons that had already been assigned to the storage area now found themselves dubbed henchmen. They’d quickly gotten used to their new boss’s eccentricities; despite a lot the more Earthen phrases he used being lost to them. The storage bay itself had quickly been repurposed into more of a transit hub than a traditional storage area. Pretty much everything now was routed through the new “Supply Office”, as Backbeat was dead set to reintroduce a semblance order to the Blackridge. Of course, it also was clear that Backbeat did have ulterior motives… The number of boxes marked “purple paint” had seemed to quickly increase since his takeover.


Backbeat’s two henchmen would often be seen around the base, moving pallets stacked with supplies like a pair of demented mailmen. Often trampling the unsuspecting during their excursions, the two Eradicons seemed too always be looking for some sort of conflict. The humans referred to it as “going postal”, but most Decepticons referred to them as “those two jerks from supply”. Still, the two monosyllabic grunts knew enough to be on best behavior when Megatron entered the room.

Deeper into the jungle of crates and boxes was a small side room on the far side. Out of its entrance walked Backbeat. His clawed hands moved in a sweeping bow, much like how a performer would thank an enraptured audience. “Lord Megatron! I must say, it is an honor to have you visit us today.” Backbeat returned to a more casual stance with another flourish. The Decepticon Logistician seemed to revel in his theatricality, an affect that had gotten worse the longer he was exposed to this planet’s culture. Backbeat’s tone of voice was friendly, yet respectful.


Internally, Backbeat already suspected why Megatron was here. Hence the charm offensive. He clasped his clawed hand together and walked towards the clearing where Megatron stood. Backbeat didn’t know the specifics of why the Emperor of Destruction had decided to organize a meeting, but he had narrowed it down. Backbeat kept a slight distance between himself and Megatron just in case this was the reason he thought it was. Regardless, Backbeat continued with his usual friendly tone. “To what do we owe the pleasure… Here to order some new weaponry? I know this guy in the Sigmus 9 cluster, specializes in antimatter weaponry. Picture a certain red Cab, his composite matter reduced to nothingness in an instant.” Backbeat mimes an object going “poof” with his claws. “No muss, no fuss. Good for the galactic conqueror on the go.” Backbeat returned his hands to a more relaxed posture and hoped the thought of that damnable librarian’s painful end would put Megatron in a good mood.

[Megatron]

Hearing Backbeat's voice at his back, Megatron simply cast his optics to the side, acknowledging him with but a single over-the-shoulder glance. A narrow, unpleasant glance. Despite the lesser mech's cordiality, it would appear that his leader was not interested in playing at courtesy. His words would only serve to reinforce the foul mood.

"Do not presume that the purposes of my visit are as inane as mere off-world peddling," he spoke with a rough, heavy texture to his voice, displeasure palpable on each syllable. Was it the suggestion that put him off? The overly-familiar tone? Or even the mention of Optimus Prime? In all likelihood, it was all three and more. Indeed, the idea that Backbeat would dare trust the termination of Megatron's ancient foe to some lowlife marketer was laughable enough—if it wasn't so infuriating in the first place. Doubly so when one considered the Warlord's true motivations today.

Yet even then, he did not entirely turn to face Backbeat, ever focused on the stack of Energon. He reached out with his hand to the pile, grasping at one of the smaller doses of Energon, such as were customarily given out on social occasions or to rekindle the functions of those in deep stasis. Then, he held it aloft, inspecting it carefully and importantly...before tossing it behind his back to Backbeat: "No, I am here because of this."

Finally, finally, did Megatron turn to face the other Decepticon, casting a tall shadow framed in blue. If the displeasure in his voice was not a clear enough giveaway of the Warlord's rotten disposition, the scowl on his face most assuredly would be.

[Deleted]

Backbeat took an abrupt step back, the intense gaze of the Decepticon leader felt like being hit by a fusion cannon blast. It was a brief moment Before Backbeat could recover. Which, as it so happened, was just enough time to see that Megatron had tossed an object at him. Raising his right arm, Backbeat caught the vial. His clawed hand had folded aside to reveal a rather banal looking normal hand. Backbeat seemed to examine the vial by holding up to the ceiling light. It was Energon, the recurring pain in his tail rotor. In a perfect world, Backbeat would have just had to rubber stamp a few documents and keep the original distribution pattern going with slight alterations. That had not been the case…

With the Nemesis disaster and the move to this less than ideal working environment... A lot of things had either been lost, misplaced, or stolen. Which meant Backbeat had more work on his plate than he'd expected. In truth Backbeat had spent the first month confirming that half the items on the posted supply manifests even existed. Hell, even now he was still stumbling on the odd mislabeled box or lost item. It was mostly just harmless clerical errors, or the odd storage room turned dumping ground by the other 'cons. Any cases of outright theft were negligible at best. It had mostly just been bots claiming “abandoned” weaponry or ammunition. That sort of issue was quickly dealt with by having the offender sign a few forums after a slight “processing fee”. So long as it looked official on holopad and wasn't already earmarked, Backbeat found the matter a non-issue. Backbeat drew the line at trading Energon. Not out of any moral compunctions, but because the whole business was more hassle than it ultimately was worth. 

With the Nemesis repairs and that new secret project, the last thing Backbeat wanted was something to go loudly wrong. Then, of course, this mess started. “Ah, you’re here about that…” Backbeat's face betrayed almost nothing (the faceplate may be cheating a bit), but there was some clear surprise in his optics. He set the vial down on a nearby shelf and converted his right hand back to its normal clawed configuration. For whatever strange reason, Backbeat seemed to prefer his claws to his normal hands. "While the current rations have been adjusted better reflect our current Energon stock, I too find myself troubled by the misreported Energon supply. Primarily how the amount seemed to have been overreported up until the Energon Level Reassessment a few months ago." Backbeat clasped his clawed hands together. The logistician quickly added. “I may be overstepping myself, but I believe I've got a theory about the Energon consumption rate discrepancies we’ve observed.”  He kept his tone of voice professional, although Backbeat seemed to unconsciously lapse into the overly familiar for brief occasions. 

[Megatron]

Megatron maintained his position over Backbeat now. Unflinchingly staring him down as the Decepticon scrambled for answers. A conversational worm to rival Starscream, he thought, but gave no voice to the insult. Instead, he maintained a laser-focus on his words. He would not interrupt now, especially since he had the clerk on the back foot. Indeed, Megatron would let Backbeat speak in full.

“I may be overstepping myself, but I believe I've got a theory about the Energon consumption rate discrepancies we’ve observed.”

The overly familiar tone did not win Backbeat any favors, evidenced by the Warlord's brow sinking even further—if that was even possible at this point. When Megatron closed in with a few heavy steps, that must have been the beginning of the end. Except it was not. Megatron loomed over the long-fingered rotary for a while. Only two words escaped his shark-toothed scowl: "Do tell."

The Warlord's intentions were not knowable, shrouded in an air of oppression and cold anger. He gestured with his hand toward Backbeat, giving him the floor. Whatever happened next purely depended on his logistics specialist.

[Deleted]

Backbeat seemed to shirk back as Megatron glared down at him. The supply officer puts his clawed hands in front of himself as he took a step back. He’d not been expecting such a reaction from the Decepticon leader, but quickly recovered. As he took another step back, he dropped his arms to his side. Backbeat’s voice calmed as he quickly resumed his explanation. “The current evidence points to a simple clerical error. Which was no doubt compounded by the chaos that occurred before I arrived… And quickly rectified once noticed.” There was a tinge of ego in his voice at that last bit. He’d been rather proud of the reorganized Energon ration matrix he’d implemented; he’d spent a week alone trying to optimize the ratios. Sure, it was a wee bit shoestring, but considering half the ship still seemed to have the energy to glitch and moan at him… Backbeat marked it as a success.


“If one was conspiratorially minded however, there would be a benefit to issuing padded Energon rations.” Backbeat commented, he then added “Forgetting to update the distribution matrix would be a very easy way to improve moral and gather support. So long as you don't care about the logistics of it.” This bit of insight was more motivated by spite than any real evidence. Not that he needed any proof of course, the 'Con he was vaguely alluding to had a reputation that made this sort of rampant speculation easy. Still, Backbeat considered it good enough payback for threatening him with a blaster. He waved a clawed hand to act as though he'd dismissed the notion. “But I’m sure you’d much rather talk about solutions than speculation." He'd had to stop himself from getting sidetracked. He knew of the legendary temper of the Decepticon leader would only be assuaged by the removal of issues... And Backbeat would much rather said removal be via efficient supply management and not the supply manager being shoved out an airlock. Backbeat slowly pulled a data pad out of a storage panel in his shoulder. He was careful to avoid damaging it with his clawed hands. "With your approval, we could submit a request to an off planet Decepticon operation for Energon resupply. I'm certain no loyal Decepticon could refuse a request with your confirmation codes. Until then our current rationing should hold.” Backbeat kept a friendly but respectful tone as he gave his recommendation and then held up the pad to Megatron. He seemed to have already had filled everything out in preparation. Everything, save the space for a commanding officer's signature, of course. Should one read thru it, they'd classify it more as a robbery attempt then a supply request. Directed towards Backbeat's old unit, the request forum not only had large quantiles of Energon listed, but also ammunition and other various supplies. It was clear he knew exactly what they had to pilfer and no moral qualms about practically ransacking his old comrades. 

[Megatron]

Megatron had the bigger picture in mind, and although Backbeat's presence and proposed solution were not without merit, they were ultimately limited by the scope of his knowledge. Not for a second did he entertain the initial suggestion that it could be a "clerical error." And even if it was, that would make the clerk seem no less incompetent. The suggestion of ransacking one of their own outposts was equally laughable. Megatron did not even grace the datapad with a glance. He needed every drop of Energon, not a new supply line, especially with the fundamental discrepancy still unaccounted for.

"You will do no such thing. The SpaceBridge expenses alone would starve us first," he interjected sharply.

As a logistics specialist, surely Backbeat would be aware of how costly a single long-range SpaceBridge activation could be and that they could not utilize other methods of transportation due to their current position. Grounded, exposed. Keeping the network operating within the parameters of this single planet was already difficult enough. Combined with the necessity of activating the Bridge for multiple interstellar forays already amounted to a large enough strain on their resources. Like as not, Backbeat's proposition was unnecessarily costly. Even if the Energon from the outpost would eventually outweigh the short-term deficiency, Megatron could not afford to spend what little they had on unnecessary ventures, especially when a much more reasonable solution existed here on Earth.

"Instead, I have another proposition. You will submit directly to Soundwave with a full report of inventory at my behest. Each week. Your manifest, Energon, and materiel will be subsequently inspected. Thoroughly. Crate by crate, cube by cube if required."

This was Megatron's solution. Tighter security. So tight that not even a scraplet would slip by. Everything would be categorized and inspected by a reliable third party—at least for the time being.

He could no longer trust one bot alone with handling the manifest.

"I strongly suspect that this change will correct any future 'oversights.' If it does not, then there is no purpose to keeping a logistics officer who cannot perform his duties."

Megatron had no patience for this. As things stood, an educated-enough Vehicon could perform Backbeat's duties to the same effect. This was insufficient. Painfully. No, if the Decepticon wanted to maintain his life and office, he'd have to do more than simply coast by on unearned wealth. Earth was not like wherever he came from. Here, he was in the presence of Megatron. Every. Waking. Day. He would fall in line, submit himself to the Warlord's judgment, and be removed from the equation if needed. As far as Megatron was concerned, if Backbeat could not prove his usefulness, it would simply mean one less hungry neck to feed.

In this spirit of this, his next words breathed an unsubtle threat into being. Grizzly words were spoken with a nearly-conversational tone: "The Decepticon armada is no place for useless middlemen."

The message was clear. Do your forsaken duty or I will kill you and find someone who can do it better.

[Deleted]

Backbeat made a bit of a choking noise at that. He’d kind of been hoping he could steer the situation so that he’d have access to the Spacebridge. It was difficult to operate as a black marketer when you had nothing to market, and getting the Earthen cultural material he'd acquired off world was becoming a real problem. The addition of Soundwave acting as his direct superior also was problematic. While Backbeat respected the silent Decepticon, the Decepticon spymaster was far to observant to run the usual con jobs on. Backbeat figured he'd would need to do something quickly to improve the Warlord’s opinion of him. “I see… if you’re looking for a locally sourced alternative, I may have a suggestion.” The fact his attempt to pin everything on the previous administration seemed to go ignored didn't help his nerves.

The data pad would quickly return to its original spot in the supply officer’s arm-based storage bay. It’s door closing with a loud click. He eyed Decepticon leader cautiously, as if he was squaring off with a wild animal. “If we re-route the Energon from a few of the base’s systems such as lighting and a few of the non-essential terminals and other systems. That should give us enough of a short-term boost.”  Carefully, Backbeat added, “some of those systems could be replaced with other energy sources for while we scout for new Energon deposits.” He hoped this would placate the Decepticon leader a bit. He’d been too focused on material supply and had neglected the Energon stock for too long, Backbeat could admit. But he’d be damned if this was how his rising star was cut down. Backbeat regrouped mentally and redoubled his efforts. “There are energy sources on this planet that, while unable to sustain living Cybertronians, could power non-living systems.” Backbeat added, clearly returned to his more confident tone of voice. “I’d need one of our more scientifically minded associates to assist in the project, but I already have an energy source in mind.” Backbeat would then take a half step back and add "with your permission of course." 

[Megatron]

Megatron remained in a fixed position, his fiery, piercing gaze focused intensely on Backbeat as he began to expound upon yet another bothersome and exhausting suggestion. At this point, the Warlord's patience was wearing thin. He could have lashed out at any moment, striking this miserable grease stain from existence. The longer he considered it, the better it sounded to him. He was just about to heat up his fusion cannon when...

“There are energy sources on this planet that, while unable to sustain living Cybertronians, could power non-living systems.”

He stepped closer to match Backbeat's back-paddling and leaned forward. He let him finish talking in full before coming to any conclusions, and even after that, he maintained this position without any words or replies for an unnerving amount of time. With Megatron this close to one's fragile body, milliseconds stretched into minutes. Minutes into eternity.

But he did speak eventually.

"Your idea is... reasonable."

The old Warlord straightened out his monumental form once more, but even as the pressure on Backbeat lessened, the shadow cast over him grew taller. This was a commitment.

"You may do so after Soundwave reviews your manifests at the end of this week."

There would be no more suspicious boxes labeled "purple paint" after this week, no more Energon slipping through one crack or another, and no more mysteriously disappearing and appearing equipment. The flow of materiel would be strictly regulated, and if it was indeed proven that Backbeat was the source of this discrepancy and not someone else, he would play with dearer things than just his ideas and undying servitude.

But to address the proverbial combiner in the room, Megatron continued without making another threat, expounding upon the flaws of Backbeat's plan:

"Our scientists, however, are preoccupied with more pertinent matters. Bother them at your own peril."

In this way, he would sanction Backbeat's idea without unduly disturbing plans of far greater import. Truthfully, he expected nothing to come out of this in the end, but should the oh-so-efficient expert prove him wrong and secure his position with this plan, perhaps there would be some merit in acknowledging it. Still, Megatron voiced a final confirmation of low expectations in a tone much too even for his previous disposition.

"I suspect you will find little sympathy and less success."

Decepticon scientists were not exactly known for sociable and kind personalities. One was a swear-happy lunatic without an ounce of morality, another dabbled in chemistry. An eccentric recluse with an all too stiff demeanor. The third was Shockwave. Enough said on that front. There were always more out there, somewhere, but inaccessible or married to more lucrative ventures.

Backbeat's prospects were grim, but Megatron remained where he stood if only to observe his reaction to such discouraging words.

[Deleted]

Backbeat froze for a second as Megatron’s words lingered in the air. Megatron's words about as oppressive as their utterer. A few brief seconds past and then Backbeat optics constricted into a focused glare. While it would be impossible to pry one of the science team away from their work on the secret project… Backbeat now had something else in mind. His optics quickly went wide as an insidious idea crept into his processor.

“True. It would be inefficient to pull those resources off their current projects. That said, there are other options…” Backbeat’s vocalizer emitted a rather sly tone. “The humans, Muck I think they're called, do seem to be experimenting with our tech, logic stands to reason they either have a supply of Energon or have already adapted local fuels to serve.” As he spoke, he almost seemed enjoying himself. Like a man being slowly sucked into a crossword puzzle, Backbeat delighted in the fiendishness of the scheme taking shape. You could almost hear the grin from behind his face plate. “Alternatively, interrupting Autobot supply lines might be the better play short term, as we can guarantee usability, but sacrifice long term optimization of local resources.” He'd been curious to investigate how their opposite number's supply situation was. He'd heard rumors about the Autobots working with local factions, and was rather curious about the details of such an arrangement. "And the damage to the Autoboobs either proposal could cause isn't a bad bonus either." The last comment seemed to lapse him back to his normally jovial tone of voice. Backbeat quickly caught himself and returned to a more sedate tone. “I defer to your will on this Lord Megatron.”


Internally, Backbeat hoped Megatron would authorize his proposal to go after the human element. He felt they’d be the easier of the two options to rob blind. Backbeat just needed the right conditions and assistance to set up his play. After all, no one expects an ambush to be ambushed.


Raiding the Autobot supply lines would be more difficult, as heavy investigation would be needed. Backbeat also doubted he’d be allowed to run the operation, as this would primarily be a military excursion against their hated foes and not stealing Energon candy from a bunch of apes.

[Megatron]

Megatron did not remain silent for long. It took only the briefest of considerations for him to shut down Backbeat's proposition of attacking Autobot supply lines. After all, they had nothing of the sort. The observations collected by the Decepticons actually pointed to the opposite reality: The Autobots were stranded on this world, to some extent at the very least, and were not possessed of the numbers to organize anything resembling a continuous flow of commerce. Were the Warlord to hazard a guess, they were in all likelihood only supplied irregularly by their human allies—and by raiding what was not theirs to claim in the Decepticons' Energon mines.

That last thought made Megatron bitter, and he'd project that bitterness outward into a curt and dismissive response.

"Perish the thought. There are no 'Autobot supply lines' on this planet. The war we wage here is not the same as our grand conflict on Cybertron."

He paused ever-so-briefly, only long enough to gather a swelling intake.

"In fact, we believe the Autobots are largely trapped on this world and survive only by the providence of their organic benefactors. You must adapt your strategies accordingly."

It was then that the Warlord finally cleared some space between him and the logistics officer, taking a few paces towards the exit, in so far as the maze of supplies and Energon would allow. Yet he remained within earshot so that he could maintain the conversation, beckoning the other Decepticon to follow.

"Come, I will show you a demonstration of what we face here so that you can refrain from embarrassing yourself further."

The words were said with a foreboding, iron calm, like the ominous creaking of an abandoned foundry. Megatron's heavy footsteps continued once more in much the same spirit as he prepared to leave the storeroom. Backbeat would be wise to follow.

[Deleted]

Backbeat paused for a moment, mental gears turning as Megatron spoke. He figured he’d need to do something to improve the Decepticon leader’s mood soon or start running for an exit. He chose the former and quickly spoke. “Of course, Lord Megatron. Although untraditional as it currently is, the Autobot supply chain does have its weak links.” He started to walk and followed his leader. “Which like any business arrangement can be exploited, provided one knows it's mechanics of course.” Backbeat grinned behind his faceplate as he calmly spoke. He had his angle. 


As Backbeat followed along, he kept a couple steps between himself and Megatron. The logistician was slightly hunched over and fidgeted with his clawed hands as he leaned to see around Megatron. He hoped to see where he was being led. “I’ll speak with Soundwave investigating the human specifics of the Human's arrangement with the Autobots when I see him at the end of the week. I expect the humans will prove to be they player with the easiest cards to peek." Backbeat far preferred operating against the humans to dealing with Autobots, there was a novelty to the small creatures. Offering to pull this thread was partially also to avoid agitating the Decepticon leader anymore. It was clear to Backbeat that the rumors of their leader’s recent issues had some truth. "They do seem to love broadcasting every inane detail to the ether don't they?"

[Megatron]

Megatron remained silent for a while, letting Backbeat talk as they embarked on a trip down the halls of Blackridge Hold. His stride was self-assured and powerful, a tyrant within his own domain and nothing to fear in it. This aura of competence and control was not merely projected through his movement, however, but also the reverence those they had passed on their way showed him. Vehicons would turn their heads in his direction and some would salute or stand at attention. In truth, there was no procedure for this. That Megatron inhabited the same humble trappings as them was simply a fact they all had to deal with in their own way.

This continued for a while until Megatron finally spoke again, having arrived at the precipice of a large door flanked by two Vehicon soldiers—his door and his chambers beyond them.

"If you see any value in investigating the Autobots' human allies, then I shall not oppose you. Prime's weakness for lesser beings has always been one of his greatest."

His words were spoken matter-of-factly, although the tone in which he spoke them soured considerably when it came to the mention of Optimus. The two have not seen each other in quite some time, yet the hatred burned within his Spark with the same ferocious intensity as the day the Prime had betrayed him.

But...Shaking off the memories of Optimus like a bad feeling, he resolutely pressed a button on the side of the door. It opened with a heavy rumble in response and allowed the Warlord to enter his abode seamlessly. Beyond expanded a long table with a magenta holographic surface under a thin glass pane, and farther back still, towered another door. This one led to his recharge slab. Rarely used on busy days such as this one.

Nonetheless, the Warlord turned around to face Backbeat for a moment—only at the hip—and beckoned him with a sway of his head towards the cold interior of the sanctum. There, he would take his place at the back of the table. He engaged with its interface for a while and, eventually, the display turned three-dimensional, popping up above the table to show a flat rectangle hovering in empty solitude.

An image—No. Footage—soon filled the blank space within the rectangle. A feed from a Decepticon mine. Everything looked normal. Workers moved about their duties, chipping at Energon with power drills and digging further into the cavern walls with large boring machines. Then, an explosion. Swelling, massive. Cerulean. Energon. Figures moved in the distance. A firefight broke out. It was a blur, a haze. Difficult to discern any details but surely, those were Autobot attackers.

"Do you now understand why we cannot simply starve the Autobots of their supplies, Backbeat?" Megatron asked, raising a brow at the logistics specialist.

[Deleted]

"I understand completely, my lord.” Backbeat leaned into peer at the screen. He pointed one of his clawed finger at a point on the screen. He weighed options in his head, and more importantly resource allocations. His optics glanced back to a point on the screen the smoke filled entrance of the Autobots. In a voice utterly devoid of it's previous warmth and friendliness Backbeat quietly spoke: "Then that's how we'll need to play it." Backbeat returned his focus back to Megatron. As if he was snapping out of a trance. 

The logician's demeaner seemed to return to it's normal level of friendliness as spoke his next words. "Every move that big red and blue buffoon makes costs him Energon and Autobots... We just need to find a way to raise the price attacking our mines have." Backbeat produced another datapad from his arm's storage bay and occasionally poked at it as he spoke. 

"That said... I'd be curious how they've been finding out mines. Energon radiation? Groundbridge signal? That would explain how he showed up so quick during that last operation." The Autobots strategy was clearly reactive. Their M.O. seemed mostly to be focused on gorilla tactics and disruption, which told him they were either unable or unwilling to make any large moves. Backbeat could guess this was due to a lack of supplies. Filching Decepticon Energon reserves was a clear sign that the Autobots lacked the means to mine or process Energon in a large enough scale. This also meant they had a way to find the mines, which was going to be a problem. While security wasn't his purview, Backbeat could see that there was a weak link in this operation that the Autobots seemed to be exploiting. "Either one could be used to bait traps." 

[Megatron]

Buffoon — an inelegant word for his nemesis. It garnered a narrowing of the optic from Megatron but he did not interject. — He did not say that such crude epithets as assigned by a common clerk were insulting to both his greatest enemy and himself. He did not say that if Optimus Prime had willed it, a middling creature like Backbeat could be reduced into a fine paste in an instant. He did not say that he could do much the same at this very moment; He did not say anything at all. — He let his eyes and his scarred face —  contorted into an iron scowl — speak of insult and injury and he would let Backbeat speak in full.

Instead of whatever grand gesture of approval or Decepticon camaraderie Backbeat thought might happen when he referred to Prime in such a way, Megatron had nothing to offer save for a cold, deadpan stare. — A less magnanimous leader would not have granted Backbeat this clemency, but Megatron could scarcely afford to alienate what remained of his Decepticons with petty displays of arrogance and indignation. There would be no further ruminating on this; His expression and posture should have alerted Backbeat to the fact that he was being overly familiar in the presence of someone who was not his friend. — He was dealing with a displeased leader who suspected him of foul play and subversion, a leader who was only listening now because Backbeat had a particular skill-set that made him useful in this one specific scenario.

And he should make no mistake in forgetting that should he ever cease to be of use, he would also cease to function. As he had stressed previously, Megatron was not interested in feeding waifs and strays — in letting useless leeches gorge on their Energon rations.

And speaking of useless leeches...

"We presume that the Autobot saboteurs locate our mines with conventional methods by scanning for Energon radiation," he answered with a small modicum of restored calmness, "...As resources are scarce, we cannot fashion suitable cloaking technology for our mines. — What masking measures we have must be used here, in this — harborage."

He detested hiding in this place. It did not take an empathetic genius to know that. In his mind, the word harborage may as well have been interchangeable with the word hovel... Which made the fact that Backbeat (or someone else) may have been living a little above his station all the more infuriating. — Megatron's next words would be a trial of character, a test to see whether Backbeat was even worth these discrepancies in the ledger, of cooperation with Soundwave, of being forgiven should it be proven that he is the perpetrator behind their lessened stockpiles.

"If you can secure our operations against Autobot intervention by other methods, I will defer to your judgment in future logistics endeavors."

This was a classic move from the Megatron playbook: show your worth with actions. Backbeat's experience — moderate though it may have been compared to his former war councils — could prove to be useful in lessening the load he, Soundwave, and Starscream had to carry alone ever since arriving on this planet. — Besides, if he could involve a third party in the flow of Energon, perhaps it would help him reveal any weak links in the chain.

But not yet. Backbeat had nothing to show for himself aside from being a suspect in an ongoing investigation and espousing trite small-talk.