[ti]Ep 3[/ti]The Tower [Closed]

[Starscream]

Episode 3 | Week 4 | Day 7
Early Morning
-

Blackridge Hold was quiet this morning, to the point it could be considered almost peaceful. The ambient thrum of generators sounded from rooms deep within the rocky walls, the noise so familiar that it was almost like background noise to those that were used to them. The gentle mutterings of Vehicons conversing as they made their way to their stations could be heard from somewhere in the various corridors, though it was far too quiet from here to make out just what was being said.

Not that Starscream cared to listen. His attention and gaze solely on the monitors at the terminal in the Control Room. He was a lone figure in the sparse, open space of a room - it seemed the silver Seeker had chosen to forgo the majority of his recharge in favor of getting a decent start on whatever work was needed for the day.

Long, taloned digits poked at the keyboard as he scrolled down what looked to be various reports and schedules. Vehicon designations, each listed next to a location - no doubt the various mines under their control here on Earth. Sliding across to another screen, his optics narrowed at what appeared to be some minor discrepancies regarding two mines in particular.

Flagging them as odd, he would separate them from the rest of the list, drawing up another screen - this time with an image of Soundwave, to make an inquiry as to just what’d gone on.

So focused on what he was doing, he barely even seemed to register the familiar woosh as the swirling vortex of the bridge appeared nearby - save for an idle twitch of his wings. Nothing had popped up on his screen, meaning that this bridge had been opened either remotely - or by someone else.

[Megatron]

The universe could be such a cold and callous place, a soundless void.

It stretches onward and forever onward in all directions. Even at the speed of light, the distance between one point and the next frightened lesser creatures, harrowing in its scale. Light-cycles of silence, nobody to keep you company but it alone. Oh, the quiet. Beautiful, constant. It was here before anything and anyone, and it would remain here long after everything else turned to dust.

Even his great empire. Many would find that thought frightening, yet not him.

Not Megatron.

He learned to love the eternal calm. One day, he would own it all—even the silence; this he swore many eons ago. But today, the time came to say goodbye. Megatron had what was needed, and the war eternal called, driving his sleek form through the nebulae, onward and forever onward.

Where he went, streaks of purple followed, then faded.

A gateway loomed in the distance—an emerald portal. His people created it to surmount the silence—to look light in the face, mock it, and outrun it. As he neared closer, his form parted at the seams, jagged edges of silver shifting into a humanoid form. He let the weightless cosmos shroud him, and the momentum carried him to the rest of the way. Then his feet found purchase. A whirring, incessant noise filled his audials. He was no longer among the stars but in the space between that place and the next.

Megatron walked from there. The thuds of his pronged pedes seemed deafening at first. And how could they not after over a week in emptiness? Still, as he neared the scintillating tunnel's exit, the noise began to feel right—as if he'd known nothing else. Odors from the other side wormed their way into his olfactory sensors. There were no smells in space, but the damp stuffiness of Earth was difficult to forget, more so than the noises that came with it.

How quickly the effects of his journey faded.

Even the weight of his body felt appropriate as Earth's gravity took hold.

He was nearly there—one loud step after another. But before he passed through, Megatron's brows furrowed. The last time he was in this position, the Decepticons had nearly perished in his absence. His scowl was but a natural response to that memory.

With a determined march, he broke through the tear in reality and found himself at Blackridge Hold once more, just as he had left it. His smoldering optics scanned the room briefly before settling on Starscream.

The rightful Lord has returned.

[Starscream]

Another familiar noise sounded along with the wooshing whir of the active vortex. Muddled amongst the roar, it was hard to pick up at first - but it was almost certainly there.

The sound of heavy, purposeful footfalls.

A quick glance over his shoulder was given in direction of the noise, optics widening as he spotted the immense figure of Megatron himself moving through the portal and into Blackridge Hold.

Starscream’s frame immediately shifted as he turned to look directly at the other mech, straightening his posture, with wings hiking upward in what could only be taken as surprise - though he did not move closer to the Warlord, choosing to remain standing where he was.

“L-Lord Megatron! You have returned!”

A gentle dip of his helm paired with these words, a show of respect - though no doubt to partly hide the look of slight panic that now graced his features.

[Megatron]

"Perceptive as ever, Starscream," his voice echoed, "Indeed, I have."

The statement sounded firm, implied derision. No sooner did Megatron arrive than he and Starscream danced to a familiar tune. The sudden stumble in words, the concealed panic—they read clearly as a sun to the Warlord. He knew Starscream was unhappy to see him again, though the reason why would need to be discovered later.

More pressing matters loomed ahead.

If Starscream wouldn't approach, the Lord would, sparing only a cursory amount of attention to the terminal next to his second-in-command. Then he looked around the room one more time, resting his monstrous hands against the small of his back, and regaled the Seeker with his full attention.

"How unfortunate that we are forced to reunite in these temporary accommodations yet again."

The disappointment in his voice remained palpable throughout. It implied a question left unsaid:

Why are we not aboard the Nemesis?

Yet, oddly enough, Megatron did not press the issue further for now. Perhaps some would find his frustration absurd, given how little time he gave Starscream since his last departure. Nobody could have recovered the warship in that time, could they? But the fact remained, lingered in the air for a while longer. Blackridge was not the Nemesis, it never would be, and it could never do what Megatron needed it to do.

[Starscream]

A quiet, nervous chuckle was the only outward reply to the Warlord’s first comment, clawed fingertips moving to press against one another to bleed out the nervous tension in his frame as he glanced back up to look the other mech in the optic. Of all the Decepticons to walk through that bridge, the last one he ever expected was Megatron himself. He knew this day would arrive, of course - he was not ignorant - but he anticipated the Warlord to be absent for far longer.

As Megatron approached, there was a gentle shifting of his weight. Standing up a little straighter, adjusting his posture to one that was more neutral - though his wings betrayed him somewhat, holding much of the tension he currently felt, they were at an awkward angle and did not seem to relax.

The screen had been left open, no scrambled attempts to slam onto another window had been made - after all, he had not been doing anything nefarious. The two outlier mine destinations were still highlighted, the message ready to be sent to Soundwave.

Bobbing his helm at Megatron’s words, it was then his arms eased back to his sides.

“Unfortunate indeed, though I am pleased to inform that Soundwave has made some progress in retrieving your flagship from the depths.”

That rather daunting task had been assigned to the Spymaster upon Megatron’s first return - and he was quick to give a subtle reminder to this fact. While he had been kept in the loop on their advancements for the most part, it had not been his own priority, and as such he had left Soundwave to his own devices.

“As you can see-” a gesture was made to the monitor at his side “I was about to contact him regarding a small discrepancy in two of our mines, though obviously with your return, I am sure you are eager to hear from him directly just what has been done regarding the Nemesis.”

An implied offer to change the message request, though knowing the Spymaster? He was more than aware that their Warlord had returned.

[Megatron]

The need for deflection did not escape Megatron's notice, and it did not come across as welcome in the least. While it still held that Soundwave was to enact the Warlord's will in the Nemesis matter, the burden of leadership was in Starscream's hands in his absence—which included enforcing said will. The situation reflected more on the Seeker than he realized, at least in his lord's commanding optic.

But Megatron did not return to bicker with his second-in-command over the burden of responsibility. That much was obvious.

"We shall see about that," he retorted with a low snarl upon Starscream's claims to progress at last. Hopefully, that statement held some merit, and Soundwave took measures to support those words—for all their sakes.

As Starscream moved on to regard the monitor, Megatron did not shift his gaze again. He had already seen what it had to say, and his loyal commander's comment was superfluous at best, eliciting a subtle narrowing of the brow from the Warlord.

"That will not be necessary. We can discuss your combined deferrals in due time, Starscream. As for now—summon a flight unit instead..."

There was a grave pause as Megatron disengaged one of his arms from their resting place at his back and gestured mightily towards the SpaceBridge.

"...It is time we collected the fruits of my labor."

[Starscream]

“But of course.”

A quiet reply, paired with another gentle bob of his helm. While the Nemesis hadn’t moved from its current location at the bottom of the depths, the fact they were a few steps closer to its retrieval would hopefully appease the Warlord once he learned just what’d been done so far.

He only hoped they - or, Soundwave at least - had done enough to satisfy, knowing full well Megatron would be expecting results.

As the Warlord did not turn his attention to the monitor as it was gestured to, Starscream was quick to turn his own attention back to the other mech, noting the slight narrowing of his brow.

While he managed to refrain this time from nervously chuckling once more, the comment about ‘due time’ had him nervous. With a gentle twitch of his wings, he quickly averted his gaze to the monitor as the request was given, turning momentarily back to the keyboard as long digits began typing once more.

“Right away.”

Closing out the request for Soundwave, he was quick to bring up a list of Eradicon designations. Picking out four who were stationed here in Blackridge as to save time, a summons was given, though no specifications were noted other than it was of high priority.

They were not waiting long before the sound of multiple footfalls could be heard on the approach, the four Eradicons making their way into the Control Room before pausing momentarily to offer sharp and swift salutes in the direction of the pair, awaiting an official order.

[Megatron]

A sneer appeared on the Warlord's sharp features, scarred metal pulling back to reveal jagged teeth. He brought his outstretched arm forward in a swooping motion as the soldiers poured into the chamber, one after the other, and then lowered it slowly—an invitation to stand at ease.

"I see that at least you kept our ranks in order," he asserted in a deep, rumbling voice.

Even when commending Starscream for his leadership, Megatron's grave tone carried negative connotations with it. He spoke words of praise, yet they did not sound that way—their character was more akin to a warning. For should Starscream ever fail at this most basic of his duties, the Warlord wouldn't hesitate to find a replacement.

It was then that the old warrior finally parted from his vicinity—quite possibly to no small amount of relief to the Seeker—and made his way towards the bridge once more. He assessed the troops before speaking plainly, letting the cave carry his voice.

"The four of you are to follow me."

Megatron beckoned the Eradicons over with a swiftly extended claw and turned towards the bridge, but before he let it swallow him, he tiled his head slightly, sparing a corner of the optic to Starscream. He knew the Seeker wouldn't harm him, not here, not now, not under these circumstances, but clearly, the Warlord felt the need to stress that even at this very moment, his eye remained vigilant.

"Perhaps it is appropriate that my second-in-command join us as well, wouldn't you agree?" His question was rhetorical and aimed directly at the only other named Cybertronian in the room.

Starscream.

The depths of space could be a cruel place, and accidents happen all the time. Starscream knew this well, and his leader knew even better the fact that he did.

[Starscream]

At the motion given by the Warlord, the Eradicons would lower their arms to rest idly at their sides. While their posture wasn’t exactly ‘relaxed’, they were certainly more at ease than the silver Seeker. His wings still held rigidly behind himself with the occasional nervous tic of a twitch.

He wouldn’t respond to the commendation given to him, knowing full well the almost insidious warning the words carried beneath, merely offering a weak smile as his only reply. All things considered, things had run exceptionally smooth in Megatron’s absence, though the almost immediate disappointment that they were still here at Blackridge instead of the Nemesis had Starscream particularly on edge.

Only when Megatron moved away did the Seeker show any signs of relaxing. Subtle movement from his wings, they sank some behind himself - though he did not allow himself to hold them in a truly neutral position.

He watched quietly as the four Eradicons moved when spoken to, they followed the order given without complaint nor question - ready to move with the Warlord into whatever lay on the other side of the swirling vortex.

As Starscream was addressed, he would nod - scrambling into a hurried walk to catch up, even if the others had not yet made their way through the bridge itself. The usage of his rank was not lost on him, as if reaffirming his place once more now that the Warlord had returned.

“A-agreed, Lord Megatron. I will of course do everything in my power to assist should we need another pair of hands.” Rhetorical or not, he deemed it worth answering as to not incur any sort of unneeded ire.

While he did not know what was waiting on the other side of the bridge, his apprehension about leaving the relative ‘safety’ of Blackridge had grown in just a few short moments.

[Megatron]

Once more unto the breach, Megatron stepped through the green veil. This time, he left with the four Eradicons at his back and Starscream at theirs. He was the first to make it through, appearing whence he first came yet again. For a few moments, his body floated aimlessly through space, but soon enough, he transformed, making nary a sound.

Following Megatron's soundless transformation, the Eradicons assumed positions to his sides, two on either, and shifted just as well. Five alien jets now floated amidst a starry sky. They wouldn't have to wait long for the last Decepticon to do the same, Megatron imagined, and so he set off, blazing through the void with his soldiers.

Starscream was the fastest of them all. He would have no trouble catching up in but a moment. But if they wished to speak, they would have to do so over comms, and so Megatron began on a closed Decepticon frequency, locally—and to his SIC specifically:

::If memory serves, it was in similar environs that you have last abandoned me. How fortunate you are that I have no intentions of returning the favor today, Starscream.::

Megatron made a not-so-subtle dig at his commanding the Nemesis to leave during the destruction of their original SpaceBridge in Earth's orbit. Of course, had Starscream not done so, they would risk losing more than just their leader—but how convenient that the path of least resistance and plausible deniability suited him the best.

The Warlord had not forgotten about being left bedbound either. But why should he linger on past wrongs when so many new ones have been committed in the meantime? Clearly, the comment was nothing but an idle attempt to reminisce on their shared adventures. Surely, it was not the reason he brought Starscream all the way out here.

As the Decepticons continued their flight, something small began to form in the distance—a jagged, gray shape, too indistinct to make out its subtler features at the time. Where exactly was Megatron taking them?

[Starscream]

There was a moment of brief hesitation before the silver Seeker followed the others through the swirling bridge. While he had rushed to catch up to them before, his pace as he moved through the portal itself was a tad slower - though not to the point of losing sight of them, nor them him.

The shift from the amber warmth of Blackridge to the inky void of space and the biting chill that came with it was drastic, though not shocking, and within moments of his reappearance on the other side, Starscream would silently shift forms and move to follow.

He was fast indeed, knowing well that he could not only catch up to the others within mere seconds, but overtake and outpace entirely should he need to. He did not know where Megatron was taking them, though he was ever on edge - even if he could only assume he probably had no reason to be.

With this in mind, he lingered behind the group at a speed that was far slower than he normally liked to fly, though not enough to fall behind entirely. Keeping Megatron in his sights, he would remain at a short distance away.

Behind them, the bridge would close - vanishing just as quickly as it had originally appeared at Blackridge Hold. There was no going back now.

The click of a comm did not falter him any, even if his concern for the situation grew at the words spoken and the fact there was no true ‘escape’ unless he chose to flee into the nothingness of Space.

::I did what I had to to save the Nemesis!:: he squawked back. Megatron had to have known why he chose in that moment to leave, the Warlord had been reckless, and should they have lingered for even a second longer than they had? It would’ve doomed them all. A split-second decision that’d worked out in their favor, yet it seemed Megatron held some bitterness regarding that choice.

::I came back for you, didn’t I?::

Already on the defense, there was a hint of panic in his words. While he would’ve much rather Megatron float aimlessly to rot in space alone, things simply had not worked out that way. So close indeed with the events that followed to end Megatron once and for all, it was the Autobots who had ruined his plans.

A gentle grumble followed his words as he thought back on this, though it was not broadcast over the comm - and while his attention was squarely on the Cybertronian jet in front of him, he did notice the object in the distance, though couldn’t tell from here what it was.

[Megatron]

The object in the distance grew in size as they approached, taking on a more distinct, aerodynamic shape, streaks of faded purple apparent on its otherwise plain surface—from a speck to a blot. With the optic willing, perhaps Starscream could also notice several smaller dots floating aimlessly in its vicinity, but otherwise, everything appeared stationary.

Then Megatron interjected.

::Only to leave me rotting on Knock Out's operation table for pointless days,:: he growled, ::Where would we be now, had it not been for the Autobots, I wonder.::

Megatron took his time with the second statement, delivering it in a calmer tone, a more contemplative manner.

The thought that he survived only by the providence of good fortune and Autobot interference must've been eating the SIC alive for pointless weeks. The Warlord often amused the idea that Starscream still lamented those events even to this very day. And judging by the sharp reaction, that hunch must have been at least somewhat correct.

::But perhaps we ought to let bygones be bygones—for now.::

Judging by the timbre of Megatron's voice alone, that particular statement couldn't have been further from the genuine. He put extreme emphasis on the words "for now," and after such a long pause, only one interpretation could come out of this:

We will speak again.

Yet Megatron did not say another word, hasting towards the distant something. It grew larger and larger—from a blot to a serrated clump. No, not a clump; it had become quite clear just what they've been heading towards this whole time.

A derelict.

[Starscream]

Starscream took note of the object as they quickly approached - noting the streaks of purple, that while faded? Stood out harshly against the rest of the mundane. Whatever it was, it wasn’t moving, and appeared to be surrounded by several smaller pieces as it floated aimlessly in the void.

He did not have time to dwell or try to recount if he recognized the object as anything important, as Megatron’s voice sounded once more.

::You were gravely injured, Lord Megatron! The repairs needed were extensive, Knock Out did what he thought was best!::

The panic in his voice had returned - though whether it was genuine or an attempt to try and reinforce his side of things remained to be seen. He and the CMO knew damn well why things had been left to linger unnecessarily, but there was absolutely no denying that Megatron had been on the brink of death after the explosion, and a quick recovery simply would not happen.

There was no reply to the comment about the Autobots. Not only had they been the reason that Megatron had almost succumbed to the initial blast - given they were the ones who caused it to begin with - but part of the reason he was still with them. The question had given him pause on more than one occasion, though - if the events at the Space Bridge had happened, and the events with them infiltrating the Nemesis had not? The Decepticons as a whole would be in a far better place.

That much he was certain of, though he did not have time to dwell on what could've been. 

The emphasis on the ‘For Now’ in Megatron’s next words was not lost on the silver Seeker, and there was a momentary lull before he replied with nothing more than a nervous chuckle.

He was quiet as they moved closer to the object - and from this distance he could see it was a ship. Or at least, the remains of one. Until they were closer he couldn’t discern which faction it had belonged to, if any, but could only find himself wondering just what the importance of this derelict even was.

[Megatron]

::Spare yourself the excuses.::

He comm'd with a crackle, a flat statement, one of cold rage. This was a familiar sign that the discussion ought to stop where Megatron left it, and any further commentary delivered by Starscream's forked tongue would be most unwelcome.

Fortunately, it did not take long until their proximity answered all of Starscream's questions, giving him something else to occupy his troubled mind. The ship looming in the distance was doubtless of Decepticon make and in dire disrepair. It had been abandoned a long time ago, left with several massive holes in the hull, revealing multiple corridors throughout its length. Much like the Harbinger, it was a warship. Although this one was much smaller than the two currently stranded on Earth, it appeared to have a large, multi-level docking bay in the back—pierced throughout like the corpse of a frontliner.

As they neared closer, Megatron adjusted his trajectory towards the most open of these corridors. During their arrival, the black shapes surrounding the ship appeared to be pieces of splintered debris, though oddly enough, their designs and colors did not match with the foreboding vessel ahead. Another craft must have been present at some point, telling a story hidden beneath blast marks and ancient scars.

However, the most prominent feature did not reveal itself until the Decepticons neared closer and adjusted their approach angle. Mounted to the helm of the ship sat a powerful cannon of patchwork design—a terrifying amalgam of the best Decepticon engineering had to offer, yet lacking an outer protective shell, its workings exposed for all to see.

It must have been a powerful weapon in its heyday—rendered useless by ages of disrepair. What was left was beyond salvation. Had even the slightest amount of attention been given to it, one would recognize certain similarities to the Hymn Megatron had become so obsessed with reconstructing. Smaller, weaker, but no less ingenious in its design. Perhaps Starscream's background in science would allow for some small measure of appreciation for the forgotten marvel that it was.

However, unlike Megatron's beloved pet project, the Decepticons could not possibly repair this weapon, even should they labor for a thousand years. Not even the Mortillus' Hymn was THIS beyond salvation.

::We have arrived.::

All of this begged the question: Why were they even here in the first place? The weapon was useless, more so than the Hymn. Did Megatron honestly bring them all the way out here for nothing? Perhaps the Dark Energon in his veins had well and truly rendered their Master insane. 

[Starscream]

Should Megatron have been paying attention, he would hear the gentle click of his comm activating once more after he spoke. The line open, yet no words followed through - it held like this for just a moment, before there was another click of the line cutting into silence.

It seemed Starscream had quickly reevaluated his idea to say something in response, and had chosen to remain silent. His gaze shifted as they moved, focusing on Megatron as he flew ahead, and a familiar thought crossed his processor - if only for a moment.

Withholding the temptation to do something that could be considered foolish, he too would adjust his trajectory - following the Warlord as they moved closer to the ship. Now that they were nearer to the vessel, the silver Seeker could see just what it was they were dealing with.

And his confusion only grew. Why here? Why this ship? He could tell at mere glance alone that there was no salvaging nor saving anything of use here. It could not be scrapped for parts, and anything of value (at first look, anyway) would’ve no doubt been pilfered over the many years it’d floated out here in solitude.

Save for the gun, which quickly came into view as they moved around it. Though even that had seen better days, and no amount of work would bring it into a usable state - or at least, not fast enough to be of any use to them at all, given current circumstance.

Yet this was what their Warlord had brought them out to see. The ‘fruits of his labor’ as he had put it - yet… it did not look like much at all.

::A dilapidated ship, Lord Megatron?::

Surely this had to be some kind of a mistake.