[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Like Energon Knows Blue [Closed]

[Lockdown]

Episode 3.5 | Week 1 | Day 1

THE EDGE OF EARTH’S SOLAR SYSTEM

Within the decadent interior of the Jade Dahlia II, a soft song had begun to be sung. The dull roar of the engines became a ripple, the cockpit fluttered to life, screens buzzed with energy.

She was hailing the Nemesis.

In the one seat the cramped luxury craft could boast sat a much less luxurious mech. Air snored from his vents unflatteringly, his grimy peds propped up on the ship’s pristine command console. A two-sided data pad– some old Cybertronian magazine with a curvaceous and over-designed femme on the cover– was folded open atop the mech’s faceplate, keeping him comfortably in recharge. At least, until that soft song became a blaring alarm in firm Cybertronian:

::CYBERTRONIAN LIFE DETECTED IN SYSTEM. ADVISE CAUTION.::

Lockdown jolted out of his sinful slumber with a mildly grotesque snort roughly hitched in through his intake. Datapad sliding off his mug, his right hand came upwards, swiping out in front of him on instinct, the jagged polished metal of his well-kept hook catching in the overhead lights of the cockpit.

Bleary optics shot open as the mech shifted, a few empty cubes of high-grade falling off his lap and clattering to the floor to join their numerous peers. The look of agitation over the disruption of his recharge quickly faded into that of alertness and excitement as his optics scanned over his navigation console. He’d arrived at his destination– and he had a long overdue call to make.

With a wolfish leer, the bounty hunter leaned forward in his seat, quickly punching in a few commands on the cockpit’s communications array and opening a line on Decepticon frequencies until some Genericon answered on the other end with some by-the-books spiel.

"Nah, nah frag the codes– send me someone who matters. Now."

Not keen to argue with someone well below his pay grade, the bounty hunter keyed in his coordinates and shot them across the comms channel before swiftly closing it out.

He was far too old to be waiting around for someone else’s ‘clearance.’

---

THE EARTH’S MOON

The Dahlia had been safely hidden, away from prying eyes both human and Cybertronian alike, where he’d easily be able to access it again. The sun provided a long, shallow angle over the moon’s dark side, casting long shadows that seemed to claw their way over the cold and barren landscape, stabbing and hooking into the ground that had innocently been bathing in the sun’s warm embrace prior.

Here the hunter waited, amongst the pale gray of the moon rocks and the stern and moody half-shadows. Behind a sturdy rock formation, a mech who put the lunar formation’s burliness to shame leaned his back against it, a single ped drawn up against the rock to steady himself with an air of calm leisure.

With a soft smirk, he stood, a thin cloth in his offhand, swaying in the gentle lunar gravity as he ran it across the deadly hook attached to his hand, polishing it until he was certain of its lustrous sheen. Lockdown held his most prized possession up, inspecting it in the light with a satisfied expression plastering his aged faceplates.

He’d been so preoccupied he almost hadn’t noticed the arrival of his visitor. Or– his ride, rather. Pushing off from the rock formation with body language still steeped in disarming leisure, he’d take a few steps forward, moving like a big cat who'd caught sight of its prey. His ruby optics shone through the dark with some frightening and undeniable intent.

"No one ever tell you it’s rude to keep a mech waiting?"

[Starscream]

Upon the brash request to find someone who mattered - whatever that meant - the Vehicon who’d answered the call had been quick to scramble into movement to find someone who fit that bill. Megatron was probably the obvious choice, however was preoccupied in the Medical Bay with important business and was not to be disturbed for any reason.

Starscream was naturally next on the list, and was thankfully at Blackridge Hold when the single ping had been sent his way requesting his presence, as well as a playback of the message that’d been sent.

The silver Seeker had arrived to the Control Room quickly - if only to see who had the audacity to demand such a thing, and had rerouted the call to the Spymaster to verify that it had indeed come from Lockdown. The name was known to him in passing alone, though he had not interacted with him personally - and as such, he was ever wary.

Bounty Hunters weren’t exactly trustworthy, after all.

Despite the fact the call had been swift and short, Soundwave had confirmed the voice profile matched that of the wayward mercenary. Along with this confirmation, whatever little data could be pulled up on such short notice was handed over - as few as those details were. There had been no record of the other mech since the Nemesis had left their doomed planet, and while he was not specifically marked as deceased, there were no details of just what he had been up to in recent years - at least, not in the files that Soundwave had sent over.

Bridging a short flight from the coordinates that’d been given, Starscream took a single step forward before effortlessly shifting forms and making his way toward the waiting mech as the swirling vortex closed behind him.

He did not have much time to mull over the situation, nor what he was about to walk into - as it seemed just as soon as he had pushed into flight had he spotted the other mech in the near distance. There had been no calls for medical assistance, nor did Lockdown seem particularly distressed in his message, though it was curious indeed that he’d demanded what he had.

And probably foolish that he had answered alone.

Drifting downward upon seeing Lockdown, he would shift forms once more, easing into a gradual stride as pede met moon rock. He made a point of approaching from somewhere he could be seen, so as not to spook the other mech, arms looping behind himself as he moved.

As his optics met those of Lockdown, he would nod as he continued onward, closing the distance between them. His wings were outstretched, proud almost, and he moved with purpose.

“Forgive me for being wary,” his voice low, Starscream could only smirk as he replied. “One never knows when they are walking into a trap.”

Idly picking at his thumb claw behind his back, ready to jump to the offense with a missile should he need to, he would continue.

“Now what’s so important you had me come all the way out here, mm?”

((Mentions of Soundwave done with permission, thank you!))

[Lockdown]

Expression neutral, Lockdown calmly maintained pace, striding to a distance that bordered on threatening before stopping. Optics flicked down to the servos hidden behind the flier’s back, so obviously hiding whatever weapons he had to speak of. Only when Starscream spoke did his gaze return to the mech’s faceplates.

“A trap?”

With a smile that was almost imperceptible at first, the placid look on Lockdown’s face quickly began to reveal itself as a poorly crafted ruse. Slowly, disturbingly his expression shifted into something sordid and impious. It was a look far more reprehensible than the one prior, and twice as dark. Whether this was his norm or something the seeker had said or done inspired it remained unclear yet.

“You, walking into my trap?”

Lockdown then took that short extra step forward, firmly inserting himself within a range of the seeker one would struggle to classify as anything other than uncomfortable. For the first time, his gaze dropped below Starscream’s neck level, as if contemplating something he hadn’t up until now with greater consideration. His optics got to work, inspecting in great detail the form of the Decepticon second-in-command, helm to ped, talon to wingtip– and then once more for good measure.

To say the least, the amount of time he dedicated to this small gesture alone indicated a general lack of care as to basic social boundaries. Finally, his ruby optics slowly settled back on the flier’s own. What followed was a long, low whistle that crept forth from his oil-stained lips.

“Wouldn’t that be a treat...”

His mouth contorted into a grin, loosing a thrice-pierced glossa to pull back so firmly on the top row of his dentas one would swear he was trying to dislodge leftover energon from the grime. The two of them, alone on this big rock? There were a lot of possibilities…that voice might be a hard sell but by Primus the legs…

He held that unabashed stare for a second before scoffing, his smirk having grown too wide for his own good. The mech brought his offhand to his faceplates, rubbing his mouth from side to side with clear interest in his optics.

Shameless.

He blinked, dropping the hand from his mouth with a sideways turn of his helm, brow ridges popping up and then down as if they’d finally worked through some kink in their rusted hinges. The journey had been long, but it certainly seemed like it had been worth it. So far, at least.

“But I digress–” A dismissive wave of that hook, nonchalant, gnarly as it was. “I hear you think pretty highly of yourself. Do hope I'm allowed to say I'm beginning to see why that is…” the mech paused for effect, before turning his head back to side-optic the seeker. “...Lord Starscream.”

Now, he didn’t want to smile after saying that– that emphasis of the seeker's 'title’– but it was him after all. He couldn’t help but break composure even as he made a half-afted attempt to hide his grin with a fake yawn. Which likely wouldn’t have made things any better even if the yawn had been genuine. So, as with all things, he doubled down.

Lockdown vented in a long and deep vent, squinting his optics shut, his high-grade addled dermas locked in a perpetual, snarling grin.

“Loooord Starscream…” A deep, haggard chuckle reverberated upwards from deep within his tanks.

It seemed a nonsequitur– maybe? He wasn’t prodding at the mech, at least, not in a way that seemed to be mocking. No, it was more like he was savoring those very words on his filthy, stud-flayed tongue. He just seemed amused– but at what exactly was still unclear. At any rate, if one thing was beginning to be clear about Lockdown it was that his words easily came into conflict with his internal machinations.

[Starscream]

Keeping his optics on Lockdown, Starscream wouldn’t move from where he stood. Even as the other mech showed no signs of slowing down in his approach nor stopping, the silver Seeker held his composure and ground - standing tall, proud with wings flared outwards.

It was only when Lockdown began to encroach a little too close for comfort that the claw that idly picked at his thumb would pause, momentarily, as if weighing up whether or not he needed to gently remind the other mech that the missiles on his arms weren’t simply just for show.

But he would refrain - for now - opting to hear what the other mech had to say for himself, and as Lockdown paused in his footing and spoke, his lip would curl upwards into a sneer of immediate disdain.

Ah, but then the other mech pushed things further, and as that last, extra - and oh so unnecessary - step forward was made into his personal space, the Seeker’s talon would begin to gently scrape once more.

“Mind yourself.” he growled, voice low, optics narrowing in disgust as the other mech began ogling his frame.

With how seemingly distracted the other mech was in eyeing him up and down, it would be all too easy to swiftly and painfully remind him that he was standing before the Second in Command of the Decepticons - and the thought did indeed cross his mind, albeit only briefly.

Normally, he would’ve relished in being called by his proper title. Stood taller, one servo splayed with a certain arrogance across his chassis, wings flaring as he basked in the moment of being recognized for just who he was. That title - Lord - the one that he so rightly deserved and one day would hold for more than just a fleeting glimpse of a moment… however this day he seemed unimpressed, that sneer not leaving his faceplate as the two words were repeated.

It didn’t seem like the other mech was mocking him, though… no - though he’d had his fair share of that over the years, though the amusement was not lost on him.

“Your irreverent attitude might’ve worked in whatever pit you crawled out of, but you’d do well to learn your place and take a step back, else our business will be short-lived. Megatron is in charge, and I am no Lord, merely a Commander.”

Should Lockdown be paying attention, the animosity - while toned back considerably - was certainly there as he spoke of the current Warlord.

It was then, and only then that his arms would unloop from behind his back, dropping to rest at his sides, and while he was not poised to fire the missiles nor any sort of weapon, they were now able to be seen at a glance.

“Now I repeat, what’s so important you had me trek all the way out here when we are perfectly capable of bridging you directly?”

[Lockdown]

While the other mech might have initially mistaken Lockdown’s ogling as devoid of purpose in the grand scheme of things, it had been a dual-motive ploy, in reality. The moment that sneer of disdain reared its head, Lockdown immediately took to inspecting the other’s facial expression, his body language. Sizing him up– and noting well how eager he seemed to provide an example of force.

Finally, as Starscream brandished his missiles a half-moment sooner than Lockdown had initially expected, he raised his eyebrows– half in surprise, half in amused glee. The bounty hunter instantly made a show of backpedaling– how much of that was genuine remained to be seen.

"Re-lax, Commander." The mech chuckled, broad shoulders hiking up and down as he raised both servos in the air defensively. It was a casual gesture if anything– he was far from on the backfoot in this exchange from his point of view. "I'm just ruffling your feathers– got a right to know what kind of mech I'm dealing with here. Gotta say I’d forgotten the fuss some high-class mecha could make over a friendly hello." Translation– good to know you won't be taking any less-than-proper glances as a compliment in the future. The knowledge would come in handy when Lockdown wanted to insult the mech.

"And Pit I crawled out of– rude!" The mech snorted. Did they not bring the Pit with them wherever they went? This poor soul…thinking they were back in some lavish throne room on Cybertron, instead of the aftcrack of the universe, bleeding in the slag where they belonged.

Lockdown exhaled a deep vent, sagging his shoulders as he did– although an amused smirk remained. “That’s alright.”

He took a step back, relinquishing his hold on Starscream’s personal space with a flimsy bow, raising both hook and hand out beside him. Such an exaggerated curtsy was about all of the respect he was apt to give Starscream at this point.

“Can’t fault you for not knowing how I do business. After all, it’s your boss I was answering to most of the time. Back in the good ol’ days…”

He seemed to trail off, hands braced on his hip flexors as he gazed out past the lunar horizon to the stars above, relishing in some cherished past memories that even he was not rotten enough to utter here, and likely not ever again. Such things were meant to be left in the past, so the fun could begin anew in their wake.

With a soft grunt, Lockdown would speak once more, shooting a sideways glance back in Starscream’s direction, his gaze narrowing. “As for why you’re here– a good old-fashioned private meeting with a person of interest never hurts.” The second sentence spoken would be low, direct and serious so as not to be mistaken for anything else than what it was– “Away from all those eyes and ears, if you catch my drift.”

Only then– once he’d allowed himself a modicum of seriousness in producing those words– would a thin smile press into the corners of Lockdown’s mouth.

[Starscream]

As Lockdown seemed to find some sort of amusement in the situation, Starscream, unfortunately, did not - and as the other mech raised both servos, the silver Seeker’s optics would narrow ever so slightly, especially as the other mech continued speaking.

“A friendly hello?” he scoffed, folding his arms across his chassis. He didn’t make a point of angling the missiles toward the mech before him, nor did he seem to draw any further attention to them at all - the earlier reaction from Lockdown had shown that he knew they were there, and that was all Starscream needed, even if he had no plans at present to use them.

“It was out of line.”

Given Lockdown knew exactly who he was, the initial greeting should’ve been one of respect more befitting for someone of his rank. Though he wouldn’t fault the other mech too much - he’d been away from the Decepticons for some time, now, and had probably forgotten his place.

While he could be quick to remind further, he would let this slight pass - for now, if only because he was interested in the other mech and what he had to say.

His lip twitched at the snort, the faintest smirk ghosting on his faceplate - frame letting go of some of that tension as the other mech finally took a step back and curtsied, before he would quietly tsk at the effort put in - which was to say, not much.

He’d seen better - though realized the other mech wasn’t exactly trying to make a show of it. The mention of Megatron after this movement was met with a twitch of his wing, though he nodded.

“Yes, I am aware… even if I was not completely privy to the work he had you doing, exactly.”

Just as Lockdown knew who he was - so too, did he know of Lockdown. By name, mostly - as they had not interacted personally until this moment. He knew the Bounty Hunter worked for Megatron and answered to him and him alone by all accounts, though it was curious indeed why no protest had been given over him meeting the other mech instead of the Warlord, given their history.

Perhaps Lockdown thought his time wasn’t as valuable as Megatron’s, and so was fine dragging him out to the Moon of all places - though the next words certainly piqued his interest, optics narrowing once more as a long digit would pick at his thumb claw, gaze not leaving that of the other mech, despite Lockdown’s attention shifting to the horizon.

“Indeed.” he was still wary - and how could he not be? This mech before him had worked for Megatron, and while those in Lockdown’s line of work had no real loyalty to speak of - he couldn’t help but be on edge.

“Primus only knows there are far too many of those - some more obvious than others.”

Soundwave no doubt knew he was here - after all, a bridge had been called to traverse the distance from Earth to Moon, and while the Spymaster would have no way of telling just what was being said up here - unless this was all a trap to catch him saying something, of course - this meeting wasn’t exactly secret.

“We probably do not have long - so I suggest you get on with whatever it is you have to say, or offer - whatever the case may be…”

[Lockdown]

“It was out of line.”

"Oh," the mech would wince– overdramatically– as if empathizing with someone who’d just stubbed a toe. "Yeah– I’m not too great with lines. I’m kinda the one you go to when you need ‘em crossed. Permanently."

Another scoundrel’s grin spread itself onto the bounty hunter’s face, quickly replacing any hint of an apology in his visage. To say that Lockdown was a mech set in his ways would be a gross understatement.

"‘Privy,’" Lockdown parroted the seeker with another amused snort, trying the word on his glossa, before smoothing said glossa out along the top row of his teeth, ending in another dark, sated chuckle.

"Yeah. We’re gonna learn you good, birdie."

With a roll of his shoulders and an inward sniff-spit to dislodge some excess grime out from his olfactory vents and onto the lunar surface, Lockdown began to pace.

"Alright, I won’t frag around any longer than I already have– you can call me what you want but I consider myself a business mech above all else. And mecha in the business value their time. So, while the Autobots and our merry band of butchers have been busy doing their same tired dance– mecha like me have been out there preparing for what comes next once either of them bite it. And with Cybertron ripe for the taking? Those are some floodgates due to open in force regardless of who ‘wins’ this grand old spat."

It’d take little interpretation of the bounty hunter’s words to understand what he was getting at. If and when the war’s end resulted in the dissolution of either cause– Autobot or Decepticon– the power vacuum that stood to form would be vast, to say the least. Just as the onset of wartime could create opportunities for the ill-sparked– so could the war’s end, doubly so for the cunning and well-prepared.

"It's a brave new universe out there Commander. One that has long since lost its enthusiasm for our kind’s war games. Fighting’s gotta end sooner or later– even if I have to gut a few key players myself."

With a single glance over his shoulder, he would stop pacing for a moment, keeping his gaze set concrete firm on the seeker as he spoke to him.

"Lotta things are gonna go out of style when that happens. If you don’t want to count yourself among them, I’d advise making some friends who got the jump on just when and where those floodgates are gonna open."

It was an offer of sorts. A veiled one, testing the commander’s gumption– having an inkling of the kind of mech he might be and yet still trying to uncover certain things about him. What exactly Lockdown was proposing remained muddy and non-incriminating to protect existing relationships, such was his nature– such was the nature of any Decepticon.

Starscream could bite on Lockdown’s promise of information or decline it. But all the same– this could very well be the only chance the seeker would get to find out, and there was no guarantee certain others wouldn’t be extended the same opportunity in his place, should Starscream refuse to take this any further than it had already gone.

[Starscream]

Optics narrowing at the overly dramatic wince, the Seeker’s arms would carefully unfold, easing to settle at his sides as he watched the other mech and how he acted. The slight theatrics to his words - and the flicker of any sort of apology or remorse - were gone in an instant with that grin, and in return, Starscream would frown.

“Noted.”

Permanently. That was not a word that was thrown around casually unless it was meant, as it was one that needed results to back up - or, did, should any reputation – either good or bad – wish to be upheld.

As the other mech parroted his word back to him, Starscream’s lip curled up slightly in irritation. No further motions nor words were made despite this disrespect – especially when paired with the word birdie – though his optics would remain narrowed, if only until the other mech began to pace.

He watched, curiously. He was a pacer, too - sometimes. Mulling over his thoughts, his words. He found that moving while talking helped him articulate himself at times, and it seemed Lockdown was possibly the same, though he still hadn’t quite worked out the other mech.

“Ripe for the talking? The planet is dead.” he quietly scoffed.

“Though I do see your point.”

Ah, to get back to their home planet. Would such a day ever even arrive? This war had dragged on long enough. It’d cost them all so much, not to mention the countless innocents who had been dragged into it against their will, some of it via his own actions. The war had spanned eons, over multitudes of planets, and even though things had seemingly slowed since their arrival to Earth? It continued as it ever did.

It was probably only a matter of time before this planet was lost, too - or it would be, should their Warlord have his way.

The Cybertronian war that’d started from something so small in the grand scheme of things had made them the enemy of probably far more species than they realized.

Should the day come when he finally offlined Megatron, all his efforts - after pulling the Nemesis from the depths of course - would be spent in getting back to Cybertron. Dead or not, it was still there, still salvageable. To rule the entire planet, to build it back up from nothing with only the most loyal at his side?

Alas, he was getting ahead of himself some, and the mention of gutting people would pull his attention back into the moment, wings twitching gently behind himself as he listened.

Shifting his weight, he noted the way the other mech phrased his next words. An offer… of sorts, though it was vague, and while he normally did not care for such ambiguous things - unless he was the one doing them, of course - he would play along with this game, if only to sate his own curiosity in the matter.

“Oh, I have plenty of friends.” clawed talons would curl at that, the faintest of smirks creeping onto his faceplate as his gaze settled on the other mech.

“Though I’m all for making more.”

[Lockdown]

At face value, Starscream’s initial statement might have seemed an attempt to refute Lockdown’s claims of grandeur. But Lockdown saw past the weak denial. Starscream knew just as well as him the value of their home planet, even in its current state. If not physically, then as a symbol.

And there was power in symbols.

"The planet is dead."

Dead for now. The merc’s knowing smirk would seem to immediately parry the words as he let the Air Commander speak, digesting the other mech’s words even if his pacing seemed to denote a sense of absentmindedness. No, he was hearing each and every word. Whether this was due to any collection of thoughts on the bounty hunter’s part or merely an act of showmanship was just as unclear as Lockdown’s overall intentions with Starscream.

"Though I’m all for making more."

Lockdown stopped in place, full tilt. He said nothing, did nothing. Merely stood there, the broadside of his back facing Starscream.

Had a line just been crossed? Lockdown certainly remained still long enough for that to be probable. He hadn’t revealed his true reasons for being here yet, could he truly be here on Megatron’s orders after all this time? Was he just waiting for Starscream to slip up– even in such a trivial way as to justify an on-site execution? That Lockdown’s offhand had suddenly balled into a tight fist did not bode well…

Until his shoulders began to shake ever so slightly– trembling up and down with the first few wheezes that had come out. As his laugh became a cackle, his shoulders rose higher, until he was throwing his helm back with glee, a few wayward springs along his spinal strut pleading for mercy as he did so.

Lockdown quickly swung back around to face Starscream, a deadly right arm railing upwards to point rigidly at the mech before him. "Now that’s what I like to hear!" As he gesticulated, his gruesome hook shone even in the pale darkness of the lunar landscape around them, punctuating his words.

"I caught the vibe you were one of the smart ones– a real Type A mech– glad to know we’re of similar minds…" The bounty hunter sweet-talked, for whatever his saccharine words were worth.

The pep in his step returned quickly, the mech having turned to face Starscream and now walking towards him slowly, with added vigor in his gait as he spoke. "You are in a unique position to inherit the most sizable and ruthless fighting force the uncivilized universe has ever seen– and I just can't help but wonder…"

Once more, chapped dermas spread themselves into a cruel grin, revealing a row of crusted, rust-stained teeth.

"What would you do with all of that power?" A deep, weighty chuckle followed– one of darkly genuine intrigue. This was not the kind of question one asked off the cuff.

The war had dragged on for so long…it had taken such a toll on so many. Destroyed so many lives, and cost countless numbers of innocents against their will. Turned good mecha cold and cruel, and senselessly killed those without the sense to change along with them….

It had all been so brutal– and so very, delectably perfect.

But it had gone on too long, now. Times needed changing, and once more, so did the mecha who would bring about that change. Whether this planet was lost in that process or not, Lockdown did not truly care. Cybertron and the phoenix that was the empire to be spawned from its ashes at the war’s end was the only thing that mattered now.

[Starscream]

Noting in an instant as the other mech seemed to freeze all movement at his words, Starscream’s optics narrowed, watching him with scrutiny - a wary gaze not leaving him. Lockdown was foolish indeed, turning his back the way he had, though, for the briefest moment there, he wondered if he had been the foolish one, in failing whatever ridiculous test this was by crossing some sort of line.

If this was even a test at all.

He was on high alert, frame tensing - wings easing some, being careful with their movements, to angle slightly downward. Should this turn into something more than idle chatter, he was more than ready to react, and while he wouldn’t fully raise an arm, as that’d be more than obvious should Lockdown cast a glance his way, he turned his right arm - and the missile that it held - ever-so-slightly in the direction of the other mech, though made no motions of doing anything more.

It was a tense few seconds indeed, especially when paired with the fact Lockdown’s servo curled into a tightened fist. Though even despite this tension, he was not particularly worried. Ah, he could put the other mech out of his misery right now… with his back turned, it’d be an easy and almost guaranteed direct hit, one that’d happen no doubt before the Grounder even realized he’d been shot, and all too easy to explain away upon his solitary return to Blackridge Hold.

But then… wheezed laughter cut through the momentary quiet, a wheeze that all too quickly shifted into a cackle. While there was not any real sense of relief at the other mech’s glee-filled words, the silver Seeker felt - somehow, almost - as if he had dodged a bullet.

He still did not know what to make of Lockdown, and as such was still guarded, that missile still subtly aimed at the other mech upon his new approach, though he did not move. No steps back were taken as he held his ground, and there were no growled words of irritation telling the Grounder to cease his footsteps.

He listened, though would not reply - the words piquing just enough interest to hold his attention, though he did not know just what the other mech was speaking of, and as such his brow furrowed slightly. A sizable and ruthless fighting force? Surely not. If such a thing were true, Megatron would’ve no doubt claimed it for himself.

If he meant the Decepticons themselves…? Well, he was in for an unpleasant surprise at seeing just how few of them were actually left. While they did, admittedly, have outposts and armies in the inky depths of Space, they were hardly of any use to him here, and even should he rise to a position of significant power - that is to say, his rightful place as Lord - he doubted they would be much use to him then.

Only at the question did he move, left arm raising to gesture vaguely in the other mech’s direction. Whereas before, the subtle smirk may have given much away - this time his faceplate remained neutral as he replied.

“That all depends on just what this sizable force actually is.”

It wasn’t quite a question, though he did want more details before committing to any sort of answer. Lockdown only had his word to go on, and to Starscream? That didn’t mean much of anything.

[Lockdown]

"Oh come on, commander– don’t play dumb, you’ve already proven your…" Another liberal head-to-toe glance over the seeker’s frame– "Hmmm, obvious intelligence."

The tension in Starscream’s body language had not gone unnoticed by the bounty hunter. Even outside of the other mech’s strong EMF range, Starscream’s discontent was easily telegraphed. Lockdown might have relished in that discomfort a little more, were this meeting not so important.

Lockdown turned, optics peering nigh to slits as he held the air commander’s gaze for a long beat.

"Even at a fraction of our strength, most organic species out there would need a thousand fold our numbers to prove the slightest chance in a war against us. We have remained gods amongst what other ‘intelligent’ lifeforms the universe has boasted since the very first Cybertronian crawled his virgin aft out from Cybertron’s primordial depths."

Much like a certain warlord, Lockdown liked to talk, if that were not clear enough already. But unlike that certain someone, he did not care to hide the emotion in his words.

"I’m old enough to remember a time when our kind owned it all. When instead of pissing on our own potential, we had entire alien civilizations tearing each other apart for the mere chance to serve the greatness that was Cybertron."

"Bah!" Lockdown snarled, waving his hook through the air as if physically clawing through the idiocy of what he deemed ‘wasted potential.’ "And you claim not to know what I’m referring to? When you sit atop the only fleeting remnant of the power our kind is capable of? The only group left who actually understands the worth of the ancestral CNA encoded in their own systems?"

Lockdown’s agitation did not fade there, raising his voice into a louder snarl that grew more virulent and ferocious with each syllable spat. Each step closer to Starscream threatened brutal violence. "The only group with the ball bearings to bring back what’s rightfully mi–" Lockdown finally caught himself, stopping in place a half dozen paces from Starscream to grit his jaw hinges together before continuing.

One thing that was beginning to grow more clear was that Lockdown was no mere bounty hunter. This was not a mech who accepted his payment in one simple form and then gladly looked the other way. No, he had much larger, darker aspirations than any throwaway mercenary. If nothing else, Lockdown was more dangerous than he even outwardly appeared.

"To bring back– what our kind has lost." Lockdown corrected himself. It was a feeble attempt at pretending to care for anyone other than himself. But even Lockdown was smart enough to know his fate was tied to the fate of Cybertronian kind at a certain point. And that point was certainly fast upon him.

Lockdown exhaled a long, vented sigh, slacking the tension from his shoulders and slowly rubbing his offhand over the top of his helm. Cooling down, he returned his voice to a normal register when he spoke again.

"I hate to say it, but as much as I love scrapping it up with other Cybertronians, it’s time for a bit of a course correct if we want any chance of returning our race to its former might. Or we risk fading to nothingness."

A bland, pitiful extinction for their kind. A demise that would be written about only in the history books of species much shorter-lived, and therefore sooner to be forgotten entirely. And at that point? The great Cybertronian empire might as well have never existed at all.

"And what I’m sure you’ve come to realize in these last long 1,000 years of exodus…" Lockdown stood tall then, his expression dead serious.

"...is that the only way to do that is by a change in management."

[Starscream]

The silver Seeker's lip twitched, hinting at an unamused sneer as he was once again eyed up by the other mech, and the arm that'd raised moments prior would ease down to rest at his side, keeping himself guarded. The other? Still gently aimed with the missile in the direction of Lockdown – though not quite directly – as a quiet reminder that it was there.

He held the other mech's gaze unwavering, though the hint of a sneer would fade into a look of almost unimpressed neutrality. The only noise was a gentle 'tsk' in response to Lockdown's words - paired with a subtle shake of his helm.

Once upon a time, the other mech's words were true - and while the Cybertronian race could still outmatch and outplay many out there in the vast depths of space, the almost ceaseless war had cost them probably more than any of them could hope to realize. Their planet lost, and with it they'd scattered among the stars, desecrating others in their wake.

Once upon a time, they had power. Once upon a time, Cybertronians were feared - and rightly so. Now? They had oh so outstayed their welcome, and while there were still countless of their kind out there? Their numbers had dwindled.

Yet even despite this, the Decepticons still had the greater numbers on this new planet they'd found themselves on. Far smaller than their home, yet still big enough to find themselves unable to rid themselves of the Autobots - or even locate just where the other faction had settled.

He was quiet, listening - listening to the other mech as he rambled. He was so very much like Megatron in that he was wordy, though unlike the Warlord he was not careful with his words, nor the emotion they held. He listened regardless, looking for hidden meaning between the words, while taking note of exactly what was said.

While he did not flinch as that hook clawed through the nothingness, his gaze snapped – as fleeting as it was – to it, before easing back to the other mech as he began to move toward him once more. Lockdown's agitation was growing, and with it, Starscream's arm would turn ever so slightly, preparing for the worst, should it come.

But it did not.

A gentle smirk graced his features as Lockdown caught himself mid-word, though it was quick to fade. Another mech only in it for himself - he could relate well enough to that, and was sure many of their kind could, even if they did not want to openly admit to such things.

As Lockdown's tension seemed to relent, the silver Seeker's did not - wings twitching behind himself in an attempt to bleed some of it away, though he refrained from his usual nervous tells, if only to keep the missile on his right arm in position. He was on edge, and had been from the start – the other mech had a reputation, and while he only knew him by name, as he was unfortunately not privy to the details as to prior arrangements with Megatron – he certainly knew who he was.

Shifting his weight, a vented sigh of his own escaped him. He'd listened to every word, and mulled over how best to reply. Lockdown was dangerous, and Starscream was cautious indeed when it came to dangerous mechs.

"It sounds like you and I want the same thing." he wouldn't outwardly say the words, though it was vague enough to imply where his thoughts on the matter lay. A change in management was necessary indeed, if only to steer the Decepticons – and eventually Cybertronians as a whole – back on course. Still wary, still paranoid. He did not know just who Lockdown currently worked for, and as such he was careful with his wording.

"Though the fact of the matter is, the situation here on Earth is… dire." he admitted grimly.

"Barely a handful of our former numbers, our former power. Without the resources or even the Nemesis to help turn the tide of war - we hold little advantage over the Autobots."

Ah, but they still held it, as shaky a grip as it currently was.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" his optics narrowed at the question, gaze not leaving that of the other mech.

[Lockdown]

"Of course we want the same thing," Lockdown retorted, eerily calm as he peered back at the other Decepticon. "You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t." A wry smirk punctuated the merc’s point as he crossed his arms over his well-armored chest, taking a less-than-humble stance as he grinned back at the seeker. He wasn’t trying to get under the seeker’s panels– not on purpose– but sometimes it was just too easy…

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

Oh, to sum it all up in a few words would be an insult to it all...

"I’ve got…contacts. Out there, waiting in the wings. Black market connections, mecha from my Jade Dahlia days…got a list of mecha longer than your two pretty legs that still owe me some favors." Lockdown’s fanged grin thinned out, cocking a flirty brow ridge– laying the merc charm on strong as he could manage with a serious face. Lockdown’s brand of ‘professionalism’ was as surreal as they came. But quickly back to business it was.

"Can’t promise a fix to your resources problem, not at the scale you need. Not with how spread out we all are now. But I might be able to help ease the strain. Make some calls. See what I can do about what’s not in abundance on this planet. Metals, rare elements, et cetera. The difference won’t be overnight but it’d be a difference nonetheless. What little I could slip in would have to be a strategic choice on your behalf. Quality over quantity. Speaking of numbers…"

Lockdown snorted. "The Autobots don’t need them, neither do we. Take it from a mech who wrote the book on it– guerilla warfare never goes out of style. Me and mine never needed numbers to get shit done back in the day. Just ask you-know-who." That wolfish grin returned at that last jab, a bastard remembering fondly the strife he and his gang had caused the criminal underworld of Cybertron in the years leading up to the war, under Megatron’s orders. The glorious death throes of a golden era of bastards and vice. One Lockdown dearly wished to see reborn again, come their return to Cybertron.

"Speaking of…heard rumors of some eager triggers from my old gang still milling about. Ah…my boys and gals would certainly be down to tear up some slag for old times’ sake. If they can get their afts out to this lowly slagpit of a star system." Lockdown’s grin soured, wiping his good servo down his ugly mug, as if already picking out the various difficulties in logistics any number of the plans formulating in his processor would pose. To be expected. "If not, I’d be willing to whip some of your cannon fodder into shape. Been a while since I’ve had me a good group of jarheads to play the part with. Heh."

Sanguine optics flickered back up to the seeker commander, peering.

"I should add, you are the first mech to hear my offer. Doesn't necessarily mean you'll be the last. Depending on how…eager you are for a change."

Lockdown had laid his hand out fairly clearly, so it would seem. He was dangerous, that much was certain. But he was also offering a lot. Perhaps more than he would most, given the merc’s disposition. And if there was real ire driving his actions, Starscream did not seem to be the subject of it. Truly, given his foggy, yet evidently long history with Megatron, it spoke volumes that he’d come to Starscream first. All signs pointed to Lockdown’s colorful ideas regarding said ‘change in management’ being genuine.

He’d spoken enough now, given the other mech much to think about. Might as well turn it over to him now.

[Starscream]

A gentle scoff was the only outward response to being so blatantly called out - though he wouldn't retort with insults nor questions. His interest had been piqued, if only because he was curious as to just what the other mech wanted, and he wasn't about to walk away from something that could possibly garner him further power.

Ah, but at what cost - that was the question that he began to mull over as Lockdown began speaking, filling in some of the unspoken inquiries that he'd had.

It sounded too good to be true, though if anyone would have the connections to make something happen, it would be Lockdown.

Unless he was bluffing.

Starscream's gaze did not leave that of the other mech. Watching him, taking note of his body language and how he phrased things, trying to read between the lines - waiting for the 'but…' or the complication that would reveal this to be a complete waste of time.

However… there was no but. There were no complications that he could tell, nor did it seem like the other mech was trying to upsell things he simply could not fulfill. Lockdown's reputation preceded him, and everything seemed within the realm of his capabilities. Yet at the same time, he was offering a lot. Too much? Perhaps.

This was all far too easy, which meant that it was probably anything but.

"-Depending on how… eager you are for a change."

He let the silence linger. A second, then another - a third. Then, he gently shifted his weight, stretching his spinal strut - and with it, his wings flared some behind himself. Apprehension? Maybe - or perhaps it was excitement for the possibility of things to come.

"Considering I've humored you for this long, clearly that's more than telling of my eagerness, no?"

Given Lockdown's prior work for Megatron, Starscream was certain that his own reputation - and what he wanted - wasn't exactly a secret. Despite this, he wouldn't outwardly jump into stating just how much he wanted whatever this was - still overly wary that this was a trap to be used against him.

"I'm interested, though what do you want in return? I've never known anyone to give away anything for free, especially not someone with your reputation." he purred, taking a step toward the other mech - he'd played passive thus far, but ah, now it was time for possible negotiation, and therefore he was anything but.