[ti]Ep 2[/ti]Reporting to the Commander [Closed / Starscream / Flatline]

[Flatline]

It figured.

Out of all the times for Starscream to return, out of all the moments he could choose to come in, he would HAVE to come in when Flatline had pitched his voice and quoted something he had said earlier. It didn't matter that the attempt to mimic was not even a mocking one. It didn't matter that it was only a shift in tone that was pitched a bit differently to indicate it was a quote and not his own words. What mattered was the fact he had even done so, and he was caught doing it directly.

The black and red medic seemed to freeze at this, his gaze snapping over to Starscream with an expression that plainly showed how caught off guard he had been, while fear laced and jittered through his frame. This was bad, this was really bad, and he simply was not sure what the appropriate words were to do next. Would it be better to laugh it off and play casual? To act like nothing was wrong and praise the commander for perfect timing? Or would it be better to dip his helm and already start going passive so whatever backlash would be minimized? He did not know Starscream that well and what would be best, but before he could formulate a proper reaction, Sparkplug decided to swing in and help.

Flatline simply stared back as the small femme started into words once again, looking still alarmed and shocked while she tried to bridge the gap. He didn’t know what exactly she was doing by stepping in like she was, unless she was actually trying to disengage the potential bomb and give him opportunity to think or to bleed some tension away from between them. It was a respectable action, and red optics would break from the commander to peer her way with confusion before looking back at Starscream.

"That is correct. I only regret we did not get underway sooner-"

Which means he would not have been caught quoting directly...

"-but we did speak of her work and goals, which will help me steer her in the right direction."

Flatline tried to not show his anxious energy while he said this, his thumb nervously scraping along the wrist of his opposite hand while it remained looped at his lower back. While he managed to keep his primaries in place, to not show his anxiousness, his secondary's seemed to have other ideas. The small prehensile limbs folded up tight against his chest, nearly vanishing behind the pectoral plating that flared out below.

"She won't need everything I use, yet will require some things I do not have, due to our varied tasks..."

Playing off of Sparkplugs foundation, Flatline continued, keeping his tone of voice even and calm despite his partial fear. It was odd for him to feel so scared of command, but... Megatron had instilled that emotion early on, and he was yet to feel truly stable in his place to boast or brag or play up to his normal catty attitude. He felt replaceable, and that was scary.

"I was reminding her of your words, to try to move on to our next tasks so we could have something tangible to show of our labors... but time seems to have gotten away from us during introductions..."

[Starscream]

Ah, the element of surprise.

It was a refreshing change for Starscream to have caught someone else in the act for once, rather than have it be him that was snuck up on by Megatron, or even worse Soundwave while he'd been in the midst of doing something he probably shouldn't have. If he was the sympathizing sort, he'd know what must've been going through Flatline and Sparkplug's processors right now and would've left it at that; their fear and reaction alone an adequate lesson, a good enough punishment and reminder not to do that again so openly.

But unfortunately, he wasn't.

Starscream's narrowed gaze may have been on Flatline, as he was the offending party here; but he saw – and heard – Sparkplug before anything else. The jerky flinch of surprise, how quickly she spun around to face and address him. It was not lost on him, and he'd turn his attention to look at her with a lazy incline of his helm. She was quick with her apology and her overly wordy explanation began shortly after. He hadn't known her long, but what he did know was that she loved to talk.

And talk she did.

Starscream, strangely enough, would let her ramble on - as if waiting for Flatline to do something. Flatline had been the one caught mimicking the Second in Command, and he should know by now how things worked here on the Nemesis. He waited, waited for him to take control of the situation – to explain himself, to snap at the femme for steamrolling over things with her words on his behalf. To stand up for himself.

But he didn't.

Thankfully Sparkplug didn't ramble for too long, ending the conversation herself before Starscream had to cut in and tell her to stop her inane chatter. He'd seen and heard enough, and would keep his gaze fixed solely on her.

“I don't remember asking you,” He spoke finally. His tone gave nothing away as to his current mood. It wasn't raised, nor full of ire and annoyance. It wasn't high pitched with stress, and he didn't snap. Paired with his relaxed posture and field, he could be considered quite calm.

“But yes, you should.”

Technically he hadn't asked either of them, but the pointed look at Flatline had been hint enough as to who he had wanted to speak and explain things - but she had jumped in, Flatline agreeing with her after she'd rambled on, and not really bringing too much attention to his little mistake. 

Sparkplug was brave, he'd give her that.

...Well, brave or stupid. One of. 

“Just you.” He clarified, gently bobbing his helm toward the femme before Flatline had chance to scurry away after her to freedom. “I'll send Flatline in after a moment to assist - he and I need a moment.” Then, and only then would he turn his attention to Flatline. Everything the black and red mech had said had been mostly ignored by the Second in Command. At least outwardly, at any rate.

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug grinned somewhat nervously as Flatline piled onto her explanation - her perfectly true explanation! - in an attempt to disarm the Air Commander's ire. She wilted visibly at his calm, level reminder that he'd asked Flatline for an explanation, not her, and nodded her understanding meekly. Another mecha might have let their finials (or wings, or whatever) droop in acknowledgement, but she'd never seemed to have trouble letting others know how she felt despite the lack of dedicated emotion-signalling architecture.

She'd in fact taken a step towards the door when Starscream unhurriedly clarified that while she was dismissed, Flatline was not. Oh dear. Nodding quickly, she agreed, "Understood, Commander. Thank you." Shooting Flatline a last sympathetic glance, she backed out of the door and let it iris shut again, sealing the two of them off.

"That was some seriously rotten timing," she muttered to herself, staring at the closed door, before she shook her helm and turned down the corridor the way she'd come. It would be a really terrible idea to linger long enough for the Commander to come back out and catch her loitering. Flopping onto her wheels, transforming as she fell forward, she set about retracing her earlier steps back to the nondescript storage room.

So, that was Starscream, and Flatline. Starscream didn't seem to like being interrupted, but no mecha did really, and she'd certainly been short-tempered sometimes when her train of thought was interrupted. After that, he'd been pretty pleasant to her, helpful in showing her the room he'd allocated her in person, guiding her to Flatline, and even taking the trouble to check up on her. He didn't have Knock Out's effortless charm, but he did have authority, and attention to detail. He was going to be a good mech to work under, she thought.

As for Flatline, he was pretty interesting. Seemed a bit defensive about his chassis layout decisions - well, she was no stranger to having to explain her own design process, given her asymmetry - and once past his professional reticence to share what he was working on, he'd opened up. She'd worked with many mechs that were kind of awkward around strangers, and he was by no means the worst in that department. In fact, his work seemed really fascinating. A spark, being kept alive outside the chassis, and the total reconstruction of a mysterious chassis design... she was going to have to work hard to stay patient and not let her curiosity push her into annoying him too often.

That timing with Starscream, though. She couldn't help but wonder if his luck was always that bad. Flatline didn't get on with Knock Out - at all - and obviously had a lot of respect for Shockwave, but she wasn't sure what his relationship was with the Commander. He seemed pretty nervous facing their superior, and kind of defensive, too. Maybe he didn't want to get caught between Starscream and Shockwave's wishes, which was a position she certainly didn't want to end up in.

The door to her new compartment was still jammed half-open, which she noticed with a soft vent. At least it helped confirm she was in the right place. Well, that was something to start with. With the characteristic sound of a Cybertronian reconfiguring, she rose up onto her peds and slipped awkwardly between the door and the frame. Probing with a slender tool, she levered open the panel covering the door mechanism and began dismantling it, picking flakes of rust out of the gears.

[Flatline]

Oof, well that went poorly.

The moment that Starscream spoke in such an even and hollow tone in Sparkplug's direction, was the moment Flatline knew that things were probably going to go downhill far quicker in the next few moments than anticipated, and that he had pulled the femme soundly into the mess. Perhaps it would have been better if he interrupted her as Starscream internally wanted him to do, tried to show control and took charge. He needed to come up with a better excuse, or to be bolder and less passive... Maybe if he owned his mocking words and didn’t faultier, it would be better and show the 'Decepticon Way' and make him look stronger. That said, it was too late for such things, as Sparkplug was dismissed.

The quills that branched out from the mech's back seemed to slightly flatten at this, smoothing down along his spinal strut into a layered sort of armor over its surface. It was mostly hidden, his broad shoulders and oddly bulky upper torso blotting it out from immediate view, but it was there, and it did happen, a small show of weakness and fear to pair with his already anxious posture and stance. It was hard to act bold and brave, when things have already been clipped out from under him a few times.

As Sparkplug shot him a sympathetic look, Flatline's red optics pulled up from their downcast gaze to nervously glance back her way in return. He seemed uncertain, wary, mouth open slightly in a want to speak, but not having any words to do so. He weirdly enough felt a twinge of guilt for her jumping forward to try to help him, but on the other hand he bitterly wished she continued to be stupid and pull attention away from him by not obeying. This quiet wish went unheard though, as she vanished and the door slid shut with a solid thrum of the mechanisms locking together.

Brave.

Or Passive.

Flatline chose both.

"I understand I have stepped out of line."

Flatline's helm rose while he said this, and his posture shifted some to try to be more assertive and bold. He was not truly STRONG in posture; he did not have the confidence to take on any such role, yet he braced his stance and was ready for the worst, peds planted firmly down beneath each shoulder into a balanced posture. While he did feign this confidence, his gaze remained more downcast in a sign of respect, wanting to convey strength while still showing plenty of submission so it did not come off as challenging. With this downward look, his eyes were half lidded, expression flat with one eye unintentionally more 'squinty' compared to the other due to his injury.

"Trying to explain my transgressions further is arbitrary... I simply await your judgment or new directives, Commander."

[Starscream]

There was an awkward moment of quiet as Sparkplug made her way from the room. Starscream could've gone straight into it – whatever it was – be it yelling, or some other scathing attack on the black and red mech for doing something wrong and being caught in the act. But he was no Megatron – and having the new recruit lay witness to someone being punished on her first day on the ship may sound like a genius way of pulling her straight into line, but he did things differently than their Warlord.

He prided himself on it.

There was a certain... barbaricness in making those who had done no wrong witness others being punished. Of course, it would teach them a thing or two about how things were ran here and get them familiar with the chain of command, and it would train them to behave and scare them into remaining in line.

But it was also cheap, and Starscream liked to think he was better than the brutal scare tactics of his Warlord. He was no stranger to public humiliation and punishment, having been at the receiving end of a dressing down more than once from Megatron.

Which was partly why he was above all that.

There was more fear in the unknown, after all. Now, Sparkplug would wander back to her quarters no doubt wondering what was going on with Flatline in this room. She wouldn't lay witness to his punishment, nor see the way that Starscream handled the situation. She'd only see what she had just watched, and that in itself was probably more terrifying than being so open about the rest.

Not that he wanted to rely solely on fear, after all – once he managed to overthrow Megatron once and for all? He would be leading the Decepticons – and those that were scared did stupid things. Respect came before fear, and that had to be earned, but was worth more than leading with fear alone.

It was partly why there was no flickers of annoyance, no anger or rage bubbling up in his field. If it were Megatron? Flatline would've had a hole blasted through him already no doubt. But Starscream remained calm.

The door spiraled closed with a soft hiss as it sealed into place, and the Second in Command would rock on his toes – gaze not leaving that of Flatline. Where the red and black mechs quills would flatten, Starscream's wings would flare proudly behind him.

He let Flatline speak, letting him get the first word in and maybe begin to explain himself. He watched as his helm rose, he took note of the change in posture. It reminded him of... well, himself, in a way.

While he wasn't totally lenient or compassionate, nor was it likely that he would let Flatline off easy long-term for what he'd done? Flatline was a mech that he hadn't gotten to know very well yet – even despite him being on the Nemesis for some time now. All he really knew of him was things he'd heard from Knock Out, and... well, he'd be a fool to base his opinion solely on the judgment and opinion of someone so petty.

This was their second 'first impression' as it were – as he hadn't lingered long enough before to join in the conversation and get a better reading of what Flatline was like once he'd calmed down past the initial rudeness of when they'd first entered the room. Starscream had not forgotten that little detail.

Flatline was submissive now, that much was evident – he'd let Sparkplug talk over him and ramble away to explain things, and now his expression and posture confirmed things.

Forgetting everything he'd seen moments earlier, he'd watch and listen to how Flatline handled this.

And he was pleasantly surprised. There was no sniveling, grovelling, or whining. No pleading or begging. He admitted that he'd done wrong and stepped out of line. Feigned confidence or not? Starscream was honestly quite impressed – he'd expected him to crumble somewhere along the way there.

“Ah, that you did.” He spoke then, and his posture would remain unchanged. Wings still flared, arms looped behind his back – helm tilted down some to speak to the other mech.

“Consider this your first and only warning.” He moved further into the room as he spoke, his voice still calm – field level to match.

With a leisurely pace, he'd make his way back over toward the table that'd hurriedly been covered by a tarp moments after they'd first arrived. He wouldn't lift the tarp, but his attention was fully on it for a moment before he'd turn on his heel to look at Flatline once more, the table now at his side. He still had questions about what was under there, and now that Sparkplug had removed herself from the room – he could possibly go about getting the answers he wanted sooner rather than later.

“Clearly I caught you in the middle of something earlier and you're more than a little on edge...” He purred.

He had his suspicions as to what it was Flatline was working on, but wouldn't come outright with it – you never knew who was listening in, especially in rooms such as this – and Soundwave had been lurking earlier.

“Understandable, I suppose, but do try to have better manners in future – after all, Sparkplug will be working with us both in the coming days I am sure. First impressions go a long way.” He smirked at that, unlooping one arm from behind his back and resting it on the edge of the table – gaze on Flatline, trying to gauge his reaction to him being so close to his work. 

“So tell me, you spoke of her work and goals. What are those, exactly?”

Aah, so he had been paying attention to Flatline earlier – and at least for now, he didn't seem too concerned with what he'd caught Flatline doing.

Lucky. 

[Sparkplug]

((Passing on my turn, since I'm well out of the conversation))

[Flatline]

Warnings were good!

Warnings were warnings, and meant that there would probably be no punishment to pair up with it!

This kindled a tiny spark of hope within Flatline, one that he wanted to hold onto and focus on to keep himself from getting too uptight or too scared of the unknown, but he knew better than to rely on it too soundly. Deception, trickery, mind games, all were familiar within their ranks, and he knew Starscream could be offering a tiny sliver of hope, only to bash it down completely in the next few moments. Bundle it in salt, wrap it in suspicion and wariness... Despite his attempts, the word 'warning' still bounced in his processor.

Flatline tried his best to not let this tiny fragment show through despite efforts, not wanting to look too eager in any way or wishy-washy with his emotions in front of one who was ranked so very high. Because of this, he managed to school his expression, remaining impassive while he peered across the room in a downcast angle, not landing his gaze fully upon Starscream directly in his submission while the Commander moved further into the room.

The table... Flatline did not want anyone messing with it. To bump it, or disturb its contents, could set him back countless hours while he tried to get everything back in place. It made him profoundly nervous, but he knew better than to speak up now. His helm that had been downcast, now slightly turned in Starscream's direction, looking over at him, though still refusing to make direct eye contact. It was almost as though Flatline believed himself unworthy to look the other mech in the eye, his expression still flattened.

"Understood, Commander."

After he said this, he rocked his weight a small amount, pivoting on the sharp heels of his narrow peds so that he was angled facing Starscream fully. He kept his formal posture that he held before, his ped lifting and placing in a new position so that his weight could properly balance between them now that he was angled in a new direction. He would remain 'at attention' while he replied to the asked question.

"I- she told me about her position prior to Weapon Development. How she worked as a Chassis Designer before the war. We then spoke freely for a spell over personal modifications and what we have constructed with our skills."

Calm, collected, Flatline's lower voice tried to speak smoothly and cleanly, despite a grainy edge to it that was almost rasped at certain points.

"She does not wish to construct frames or parts any longer however, her spark settled in the direction of weaponry which she holds great interest. A field, I am not very fluent with."

A hooked claw idly ran along his wrist once again, the limb tucked politely at his lower back. The action was nervous, trying to find means to channel his anxious energy while he hoped he was giving proper replies. Truthfully, they had not managed to talk about TOO much regarding what was going to come next... as they had gotten side tracked by more personal conversations and the chatter over what lay beneath the tarp.

"In regards to her lab, I showed her how to requisition parts, and we discussed scavenging methods planet-side. We also spoke briefly over using slab armor to contain her experiments so it does not affect the surrounding area, and the possibility of an earth side plan for more volatile pieces."

Looking up some, Flatline dared then to peer a bit more upon Starscream, red optics settling higher up to look at the other mech. Testing the waters a bit.

"Truthfully, much of the conversation had been focused upon our common interests however..."

[Starscream]

Flatline was doing well at not giving anything away.

But then again, so was Starscream. He remained indifferent and impassive, gaze lazily down at the other mech – watching for any subtle clues or reactions to Starscream being so close to the mysterious work on the table beside him.

There was nothing but submission, which was... surprising, in a way. Despite Starscream's rank in the Decepticons? He didn't garner the level of respect that he liked or so rightly deserved – at least not all the time. But here was a mech who understood his place; and in some weird twist? Starscream could actually respect that.

He'd worked with science before, and knew how temperamental things could be – and so aside from the gentle rest of his arm on the table? He wouldn't do anything else for now. While he didn't think he'd have much use for Flatline in anything, if he could keep him at least neutral in terms of his opinion of him? That was another that he could maybe sway when the time came and it was needed. He knew that Megatron and Flatline had clashed once already, hence why he was being a little more lenient with him.

Potential allies were valuable, afterall.

He'd give a gentle bob of his helm to Flatline's words, although unlike the other mech? He would not change his posture – still leaning some on the edge of the table, although he was making a point not to put too much weight on his arm.

“Comparing skills, always good – considering there is a chance you may be working alongside one another and can bounce off each others strengths and weaknesses. Even despite her lack of wanting to construct frames, I cannot say what Shockwave will have her do – if he needs her at all.”

His gaze would shift at the movement, watching the nervous action. He wouldn't comment on the fact he'd be working with her and weaponry – a potential future ally Flatline may be, but that did not mean he should be privy to everything. For all Flatline knew? Starscream was going to respect the truce and the rules regarding it. Then again he wasn't sure what Sparkplug had talked about, she may have told him everything.

Ah well.

“Planet-side scavenging? Glad to see you taking some initiative there – not many do.” He'd nod at that, his wings twitching some behind him. It was commendable that Flatline took the time to gather his own materials where he could – then again he wasn't sure how Shockwave worked, and it could've been a matter of necessity more than him taking some gumption for himself. “Also appreciate you showing her how to obtain things here aboard the Nemesis, and for the idea – which I hope she puts into good use.” the little dirtball beneath them had its resources, but sometimes there were things that were simply unobtainable and needed to be requested. As for the idea? Well that was just common sense, but he could tell that Flatline was trying to help.

There was no reaction from the Second in Command to Flatline's gaze drifting up – honestly the black and red mech had no reason to be scared. If he was going to be punished for his minor mishap? He would've been already.

Starscream preferred to play the long game when he could.

His gaze seemed to linger, notably on the wound on Flatline's face. Was there any point in addressing it, though? It was well known that Flatline and Knock Out did not get along, and the last thing he wanted to deal with today was Knock Out's whining because Flatline had been ordered to visit him. The wound didn't seem to be bothering him that much aside from the squinty-optic, and if it was? Well, Flatline surely had enough cells in his processor to work out that he should seek medical aid on his own.

“That's all?” He droned. “Given her interest in what was under this tarp when we first arrived, and the fact she cannot stop talking – I assumed the conversation would've gone in a different direction.”

Hint hint.

[Flatline]

"I believe it is only smart to seek your own materials if capable. If a scientist has nothing to work with, they are as good as worthless..."

Flatline dared to show some of his boisterous attitude, though still presented it in a semi-passive way. His opinion was clear however. If a scientist was stalled for lack of materials, and simply sat on their hands waiting for a handout, well... their value was significantly lower and it was no better than a Vehicon standing around confused with no direction. They had to use their minds, they had to be proactive, to find solutions even if their hands got dirty. Pyrotech had further reinforced the boon of this lesson well, showing that not only Flatline believed in such things.

Looking over at Starscream, Flatline continued to keep hushed over the other mech being so close to the table, despite the fact he would be able to disrupt the small pieces that lay below with even the most unintentional misstep. However, while he could keep hush about that barely, he knew he would be unable to fall silent and not react properly to the following question the commander had asked of him. It was simply too pointed, as if he already knew the truth... or was that a ruse?

To lie or not to lie?

Flatline probably was not meant to talk about the project as much as he had, and yet, he had felt compelled to do so far beyond what he was able to resist. Knowing that someone was on this ship that could possibly directly challenge his role here ((since Knock Out was incapable)) had made him feel a bit worried, and made him believe he had to defend himself. He didn't want Sparkplug to be his replacement; he didn't want to be disposable. He had to show her that he had his role here and he had value! And that she couldn't just pick up his project! And yet... he should have remained hushed and let his work speak for him.

Flatline's lips pulled back a bit then, a small grimace forming. He knew he could lie, he could easily formulate a passable statement that would share how he misdirected, but he did not know if his room was bugged from Soundwave, and if the second in command could simply pull up EXACTLY what he said... He had to gift just enough to seem truthful and bad, but not as much as he possibly had offered.

"When discussing our skills, we briefly spoke of it... I equated my challenge to a puzzle, working without knowledge of the end goal to piece the frame together again. I did not mention who exactly it was... simply that it was not a Vehicon since she inquired why we did not place the spark into a deactivated husk..."

Flatline rolled his weight a bit then, shoulders flexing back in their sockets to try to shake off the tension he was carrying in them. With his helm rising, he calmly tried to keep looking at Starscream, feigning an at ease state when he was quite nervous.

"Would you like to see all of my progress thus far?"

He was being proactive then, offering to lead the conversation a bit on his own, instead of simply rolling over and answering questions as they were thrown at him.

[Starscream]

“Agreed.” He hummed, slowly lifting his arm from the table to pick idly at his thumb claw before looping his arm behind his back. “Although I wouldn't say entirely worthless.” While his tone wasn't exactly sinister, it was an ominous enough phrase that it could be taken many ways. Given who he was – who they were as Decepticons – it couldn't mean anything good, though.

Flatline was correct though, and he was honestly impressed that the other mech had the initiative to not only seek out supplies from planet-side, but to find use for them, too. Human materials weren't that much different to what they were used to back home in the grand scheme of things, but they weren't the same – and being able to adjust took some skill.

Especially with what Flatline was trying to do. Ah yes, Starscream had worked out fairly quickly what Flatline's mysterious project was. Or at least, he had it under good suspicion at any rate. All he needed was another glimpse, confirmation that he was indeed correct. He had questions about it, if it was indeed what he assumed – did Shockwave sanction this, or was it a personal pet project of Flatline's? Of course if he wanted the answers all he need do is look through files and logs but that was far too much hassle when the answer was laying potentially to his side.

His gaze wouldn't leave Flatline, watching for subtle clues in his reaction and response. The slight grimace wasn't lost on him, and there was another slight twitch of his wings in silent reply. He wouldn't reply to Flatline's words, merely nodded. The more that was said, the more he realized that he was probably correct – but he didn't want to jump to conclusions and get ahead of himself.

The last thing he expected was for what was said next. He'd expected Flatline to leave it as is, before making an excuse to catch up with Sparkplug - but here he was – leading the conversation and actually offering to show his work.

“I would be happy to take a look at whatever you're willing to reveal.”

With that, he would take a single step to the side and away from the table – finally and probably to the other mechs relief – assuming that's what Flatline would uncover first.

[Flatline]

This was a very odd situation as far as Flatline was concerned.

On one hand, he wanted Starscream to accept the offer. To do so, would allow him to show off what he had accomplished, with no fear of repercussions or getting in trouble. The Second in Command was able to be told anything that happened on this ship, and should be able to view whatever he wanted at his leisure, even if Flatline had panicked earlier. The black and red mech, would be able to show his value, show his worth, and show what he has managed to complete in the short timeframe.

In contrast, he wanted to be out of the other's shadow.

Starscream may be seen as noisy and obnoxious to some. He may be seen as a manipulative leech out to fell their leader and take control of the Decepticons on his own, but he was still Second in Command, and you didn't earn such a rank by simply being of some amusement to the Warlord. The silver mech was fearsome, cunning, and could toy and pull strings to make someone's life upon the warship stable and secure, or a living hell. The sooner he could get away, the better, even if he had originally thought about keeping an eye on the mech when warned of his treacherous ways.

But Flatline's ego had since been put in place since then.

As Starscream accepted the offer, Flatline resigned himself to the task, his frame slowly rolling into motion. Small clicks of hooves, a delicate stride, he moved with care, balanced across slender limbs to take him over to the covered table that had been exposed previously. Accepting that things simply may be moved, He would snag his thumb claws beneath the semi-opaque sheet, before pulling it aside with a slow motion, so that air that was sucked beneath wouldn’t disturb anything too much.

Small bits of metal rattled slightly in their place, one object with a rounded underside wiggling and gradually turning as it was uncovered. It was a swarm of small parts, placed out carefully within white chalk like markers and a sort of organization that wasn't too apparent to any immediately recognizable order.

"As Second in Command, I believe this project is as much yours, as it is mine."

He spoke clearly, folding the sheet of plastic over itself carefully, before draping the mass across his left primary, the material crackling faintly as it started to settle in place. He was under the impression that Starscream likely knew well who and what it was he was working on, so Flatline jumped over introductions, and started directly into the report on his progress.

"As you see, the bomb obliterated much of his frame, melting together intricate portions into a solid mass in numerous points. Mirroring what is still barely intact on the better side-"

Flatline idly tapped on the portion of the torso that seemed moderately whole still.

"-I am able to surmise which of the shrapnel correlate, and which may be portions of other subsections..."

Flatline moved while he spoke, fluidly trying to transition from comment to comment, while motioning to the appropriate points. At this portion, he stood where the 'head' of the individual should lie, hands lowly placing down to frame across the shoulders; or rather... the partial implication of a shoulder, and the smoldering mangled mess. He seemed to look upon the remains with some reverence and a high level of respect. This wasn't just some puzzle to put together, this was a life he was trying to bring back. This was a means to do his work, while not able to access the Well of All-Sparks, and that meant everything to him.

"I can mirror the functional side, given time... but figuring out which of the smaller bits are associated with that, allow me to remove them from the equation entirely for the rest of the frame."

He gestured then, to a section of bits and parts, that were not mapped out quite as daintily as the others. They appeared almost like 'scraps', which were placed alongside obvious garbage bits of metal that looked like it may have been the bomb housing itself, some translucent green and red plastic involved.

"I am under impression these portions-"

Flatline idly pointed over at a different area that was mapped out to the side, formed of gray chunks and small rounded adapters.

"-are parts of the hands, which neither of which were fully salvageable... I am looking to Vehicon spare parts, to act as a rough foundation to place pieces upon, until I learn more."

Gesturing, Flatline's helm rose up, to peer across the way at the Vehicon limb that was seemingly on display atop the work desk a short distance away. It was upon a stand, delicate wires and pieces hanging off of it like spider webs.

"Limbs can always come later however, my primary goal before now, has been the necessities..."

Continuing his flow of conversation, and fluid movements, Flatline walked alongside the far edge of the table from Starscream, thumb scraping against its edge as he traversed past to continue across the room to the large storage containers. The cabinets were not simple cabinets, but seemed heavy duty, blackened metal locking with heavy seals and latched connectors. Stopping before it, the medic turned scientist, didn't turn to make sure Starscream was there, instead simply nervously assuming he would follow. With a few flicks of latches, and a heavy pull of a deep drawer, Flatline pulled hard.

The seal of the controlled container broke with a snarled hiss, it sliding open easily once this pressure was broken. It revealed a rather gruesome sight to those that were not accustomed to war and the grim nature of death that followed it. Parts, bits and pieces... armor kibble... that was one thing, but what was revealed in the drawer were the more delicate internals, namely a pair of primary fuel pumps, and the fuel tank itself, as well as the orbs of secondary tanks that aided in processing and dividing fuel from contaminants that may have been involved. There was also a passage pipe, lined with metal rings to keep it from being collapsed by any sort of pressures, a couple connectors and breakaway seals along its length that would sever the straight channel for transformation.

It was the equivalent of opening a box to see an esophagus, stomach, and heart.

"Our late Vehicons, create ample starting points, though modifications of course had to be made..."

He pointed to the new connectors along the esophagus, the fresh silver metal clashing with some of the darker bits along the primary fuel tank that needed to still be polished and refurbished to a new shine. He also briefly gestured to the supplementary tanks, that looked new, lines of silver etched over its surface.

Flatline would anxiously wait then, glancing over at Starscream to see if he should continue.

[Starscream]

An odd situation this may have been, but there wasn't any malice in Starscream's sudden curiosity. If he wanted to find out about what went on in the Science wing of the Nemesis? All he need do was access files and logs and look for himself. There wasn't any fun in that, though – he'd rather see things firsthand where he could – and opportunities to do so without being chased off by Shockwave were so few and far between.

Unlike Knock Out, who wanted to snoop for the sake of snooping to find out what Flatline actually did on board the ship to earn his keep – Starscream was genuinely curious in the projects that went on down here. While he no longer had the time to dabble in science as much as he once did, he still had an interest in it.

This was a new opportunity – to not only see what Flatline was doing, but to possibly offer advice and insight of his own, thus strengthening a potential alliance for when it would be needed. His interactions with Flatline up until this point had been minimal and if he treated the black and red mech with respect? It could prove to be beneficial in future.

He craned his neck forward some as the sheet was removed. He'd already gotten a glance at what was under there upon his first arrival to the room, but had the decency to wait until spoken to before moving forwards to get a better look this time.

Flatline's first words made him smile, wings hiking up some behind him. A good start.

“Ah, that's not entirely necessary – but I do appreciate it.”

He'd move forwards then, standing next to Flatline – not getting close enough to the table that he could cause any kind of contamination or harm to what was on it, but close enough that he could actually see in detail what was on there.

It did indeed confirm his suspicions, and as Flatline spoke, he would bob his helm.

“Obliterated is a – ah - bit of an understatement there.” he chuckled lowly. Honestly he was surprised that Flatline had managed to salvage as much as he had – it was commendable that he was even trying to do this to begin with. This was no easy task, and yet it was obvious to him that some progress had been made.

Unlike Flatline, he would stand still and watch as various points were motioned to. He would remain mostly quiet, letting the other mech talk – simply nodding and giving the occasional hum of affirmation to show that yes, he was indeed listening and taking interest in it all.

Although he did want to contribute in some way, even if it was just merely confirming the other mechs suspicions as to what was what.

“Mm – I think you are right in your assumption.” he'd squint some at the gray chunks, looping his own servos behind his back, giving a quiet hum of thought. “Vehicon parts? Interesting. It's certainly admirable that you're reusing spare parts – I must say I wondered what the point of the displayed Vehicon limb was.” His gaze would follow the other mechs gesture and he'd nod, before turning his attention back to Flatline.

“A reasonable goal to have, given what you're working with...” he smirked some at that.

Flatline moved away from the table then, and Starscream would quietly follow. His arms still looped behind his back, stopping a few steps away and behind the other mech – giving him room to pull open the drawer. As the seal was broken with the telltale hiss of pressure sounded, only then would he step forward for a closer look.

“I see this. Impressive work, Flatline.”

His words were genuine – he was impressed with what he'd seen. Vehicon stock was basic enough to modify to suit most needs, but it did take some skill indeed to even begin to modify them – especially for what Flatline was doing.

He'd turn his attention and gaze back to Flatline, nodding – as if silently telling him to keep going with this little 'tour'.

[Flatline]

Flatline nodded as Starscream agreed with his judgment about the hand pieces. He knew enough to take the words with a grain of salt however. The Air Commander may have once been a scientist with considerable knowledge, but he was not a medic and did not construct individuals. While his assessment should be placed on higher regard than some bumbling bruiser that was making an idle guess, he still could not take the words as confirmation his own judgment was sound. Moving on however, Flatline spoke about the Vehicon arm further once the subject was brought up.

"The final limb won't be able to utilize the Vehicon sub-frame, but... it serves as a three dimensional host to help me visualize the next steps."

In truth, Flatline could have probably used a metal post with the vague inclination of the right shape to act as the mannequin for bits and bobs, but this was so much more effective to help see a broader picture. It also gave a false sense of more being done than actually was. A solid core, a hefty base, all with the small pieces around it. It looked a lot better than a spider web of thin wires holding up the ghosted outline of an implied shape.

Moving on though once again, now to the internal systems, Flatline's quills seemed to flick up with a sort of unease and excitement when Starscream praised his work.

A bit of pride, a further boost to his ego.

Flatline felt exceptionally flip-floppy since coming to the ship. One moment passive and questioning, the next feeling bolstered and bold, before returning to unease and uncertainty. It made him wonder just how stable an individual he was, or if this sort of whiplash was normal on the ship. Whatever the case, Starscream's praising words and careful approach was appreciated, and took off a bit of the edge of fear from the higher ranked mech.

He would still be wary of Starscream, he WAS one to fear and respect, but he didn't seem as liable to lash out violently as Megatron had, allowing a mild feeling of security.

"Thank you Commander."

Honest and sincere, he wanted to say more, but he opted to continue on once he got the notion to do so.

Reaching up, Flatline placed his palms along the outside panel of the drawer containing the devices, before smoothly pushing it forward along slick coasters to lock back in place without disturbing the contents too abruptly. Once closed, the container seemed to pressurize, as a small motor activated for only a brief moment to fully seal the section. Once this was locked away, the black and red mech then grasped onto the drawer beneath it, pulling free the latch, before sliding it out as he did the other.

This drawer was a bit deeper than the previous one. It had more space for a larger object, and it seemed to utilize this added room in full. Nestled in the center, was a foam ring that supported what appeared to be a spark chamber, though it had already been... heavily worked on.

The entire outer surface appeared to be peeled away in full, revealing the more intricate inner workings of the shell. Weaving bands of plate, stringing conduits that branched from one side to the next, all laced with the start of copper inlays that would soon cover its entire exterior. The copper inlays had been carved out across the surface, but only a portion of them had actually been completed. Some of the new copper bits were roughed in, and still protruding, not yet sanded smooth, while others were polished to a glossy finish that made no physical lines or seams between copper and silver.

Cables and fuel lines, stabilizers and a small machine, they all fed and nestled around the important piece, including the iron glass plate that typically sat in the centermost point. The internal of the husk was empty and dark, but what bits were touched by external light showed that it had all been acid etched clean with some potent cleansers.

"This is as far as I have gotten with the rest of the internals, past a few regulatory chambers and some other non vital devices to control coolant and fuel lines..."

Turning to look over, Flatline watched Starscream cautiously.

"I possess other portions of the original husk, T-Cog, and internal drivers, but I have yet to sort through them in full."

[Starscream]

“Understandable – easier to work if you have a visual aid to assist. Or at least I sometimes find that to be the case, at any rate.” he'd unclasp his arms from behind his back, relaxing them to his sides; completely at ease now. While science was no longer his domain, it was something he still held much interest in – and there was a great sense of pride in his words, even if they weren't anything of much use in the grand scheme of things. While he hadn't forgotten about Flatline's little impression of him when he'd first re-entered the room, it was safe to say that the Second in Command wasn't going to hold it above him.

At least, not today.

He noticed the subtle flicker of quills from the other Mech, bobbing his helm at the response to his words. He was always one for giving praise where it was due - if it was worth it at any rate - and considering just what Flatline was working with and trying to accomplish here long term? It was certainly meritorious from what he'd seen so far. He hadn't even been made aware that this was something that was being worked on, and so it was a pleasant surprise to say the least.

He'd take a half step forwards, moving closer as the second drawer was pulled out. Leaning over it with a gentle incline and peering down curiously at what lay in the center. Even though they were Cybertronian, there were few who'd no doubt be turned off by seeing such an intimate part of their anatomy just laying before them like this and would've no doubt ran screaming at such a stark reminder of their mortality. Starscream wasn't squeamish though, optics narrowing as he took in the details and looked over what work had been done so far.

“Progress is progress.” he gave a quiet hum of thought, not reaching out to touch the chamber itself – he knew better, and could see that work had been done on it without grabbing at it like a curious child.

He took a moment more to look over the details, before he'd stand up straight and looked down at the other mech.

“Given the state of what was left, that is hardly unsurprising.” there was a touch of amusement in his tone, which was rather grim considering the circumstances of what'd happened to the subject matter. “I assume you have all the pieces that were salvageable? Knock Out isn't hoarding things away from you, is he?” the faintest of smirks spread onto his lips at that, and he'd look back to the spark chamber with interest.

He honestly wouldn't put it past the Chief Medical Officer to do something so petty if he had known it was to be taken on as a project by the black and red mech. It was well known he and Flatline did not get along, and they wouldn't be Decepticons if they weren't above sabotaging one anothers work when and where they could...

“If he is, I could probably see to him, ah - releasing those for you.” he wouldn't look up from the spark chamber as he spoke, giving a gentle shrug of his shoulders – his wings flaring ever so slightly behind him. Hey, if he wanted more than a handful on his side of things when the time came? Especially those that could be of actual use? It meant doing the occasional favor if need be.

[Flatline]

Flatline's eyes started to close slightly, gaze falling downcast while he considered the large amount of work that would be ahead of him. It would take possibly years to completely finish things, and that was assuming even could repair the body to the level needed to function the same before the incident. This wasn’t a normal job in the slightest, and it was somewhat daunting in a way.

Having to show off what he had done to the Commander, somewhat made him feel a bit... slow... or unaccomplished. He knew what he did was a lot given the time he had, but... Flatline was a perfectionist, and strived to do things efficiently and well. He could have half the body already immaculate, and he would likely still feel as lacking as he did now. It was one thing to boast about each individual part, feeling great pride, but... now that he had nothing more to show for it, he wanted more. He wanted to be able to show Starscream greater things...

Only, Starscream then asked him something he didn't expect.

Was this bait?

Was Starscream trying to lure him into complaining?

Or did he actually care about helping?

How close was the Air Commander to the medic?

Flatline seemed a bit caught off guard by the question that had been asked, his posture straightening a bit, and frame going a bit tense. Somewhat subconsciously, without any level of real consideration and thought, the black and red medic's hand rose to idly place along the seam that ran down from his eye to his mouth that had been split. His claw tips gingerly placed along the staple that sheared into his faceplate, the silver metal clashing with the pale gray panels boldly.

Was it against the Decepticon way to complain?

...To snitch?

As if just becoming aware he was touching his injury, Flatline's hand lowered and tucked at his lower back once more, the free palm wrapping around his wrist to cage the other limb in a silent scold for acting on its own accord. He gripped so firmly at the joint that the narrow hinges of his fingers seemed to creak in protest.

"As far as I am aware, I have all of the body parts that remain."

A honest reply, choosing to not bring up the way that he and Knock Out squabbled and fought not over the parts, but the tools needed to properly work upon them. That said, he tried to think of ways to imply he wanted access to some of the Medical Bay, but he didn't really know how to go about that without unintentionally implying Shockwave did not give him what he needed to do his job. He had what was required, he could continue working, but some of the things in the Medical Bay... well, it would make stuff a lot nicer and some things easier.

"I imagine some became lost in transport, or thrown too far to be salvaged with the blast, but they would have been small and hopefully insignificant portions..."