Ch. 151

"May I be somewhat... philosophical with you?" Megatron pursed, sipping from a cube of high grade energon, "I've not felt so close to ascension since I was freed from my own slavery to the gladiatorial pits. It was god-like, to rise above the fallen and the spectators, even the so called masters who influenced the battles. My voice created followers, my words inspired revolution, my speeches incited a retribution against those who dared to keep us in the shackles of oppression. To be more than the sum of them all... it barely compares to what I have now."

Starscream trembled silently in his chair, bound tightly with clamps on either wrist to the armrests. His helm hung limply so that his optics wouldn't dare rise to meet the gaze of his tormentor. Megatron sat across from him in his own seat at his berthroom desk as he watched the seeker in a fascinated morbidity, waiting for a sound or a flinch that he could burn into his memories forever. They had been in the same room, in the same position, for hours now. Megatron had said nothing for the first hour, simply watching Starscream from afar to gauge where he was in his own mind but the silence had become an insult and the warlord decided it would be better to talk with his second. After all, he had yet to submit to him completely.

Megatron swirled what was most likely his fourth cube of high grade carefully, glancing at it momentarily to watch the liquid chase itself around the glass, "The knowledge I have of you... knowing what could be brought forth with your potential... if I had known what had stood beside me all these years, through all those battles and journeys," he chuckled, "even through our little... spats," he stood and it took everything within Starscream not to move, "our war would have ended long ago. And I do not just mean with the Autobots, my dear Starscream."

The seeker struggled to keep his intakes steady, but he still said nothing and remained still. Megatron continued to draw closer when a knock at his door disrupted his movements and he paused, scowling at the front of the room.

"What is it?!" he barked, stomping to the door.

"News, my lord," came a muffled Vehicon's voice, "reports from the remains of the Autobot base."

Megatron hardly wasted a step as he quickly rushed to the door, opening it. He didn't allow the drone to speak as he exited his own room and closed the door behind him, his optics alight with anger as he growled lowly.

"Speak," he huffed, "quietly."

The Vehicon nodded, his voice softer, "We have scoured the Autobot's base, my lord. We have done so many times," he added, "but we have yet to find remains of any kind. There are no pieces of armor, not even a collection of spilt energon to indicate injury. They must have esca-"

Megatron snarled as he grabbed the throat of the drone, squeezing, "Do not dare speak your theory aloud. If you do, I will end your life now. You will continue to search. And then you will search again. And again, and again, and again until you produce their chassises. And if you are finally certain, after everything you have catalogued and everything you have cleared away, that you cannot... then you will create pieces. Have I been made clear?"

The Vehicon refused to tremble under his master's grip and instead gave a single nod in understanding, "You are crystal, my lord. It will be done."

A gentle sound wafted into the air and Megatron stiffened, letting the drone go. The sound became stronger, louder, but it was still gentle, rolling and swelling like the waves of the ocean in the middle of open water. It took many moments for both mechs to realize that the sound, this gentle yet strong sound, was someone humming.

The Vehicon was the first to break from his trance as his visor flashed and he looked up at the warlord, "Sir... I believe that is our Commander. Is he...?"

Megatron scowled and looked back at his door, "He shouldn't," he huffed, "I say he shouldn't, but he might," he glanced at the drone and gestured him back, "Go. Return to the wreckage. Find what I have quested you to seek. Inform me when pieces are either found or made. Do not return until you have done so."

The Vehicon wordlessly scuttled from his master's side, leaving Megatron to scowl at his berthroom door, at where this strong and gentle hum was being created. When the warlord opened his door again he watched in an unamused fashion as Starscream looked about his room, humming, with a tranquil smile upon his faceplates. When the seeker noticed the larger mech, he didn't just glare; his face contorted into the expression of a dark betrayal and secretive knowing. Megatron couldn't have that.

The warlord smirked as he stomped in, closing the door behind him, "My dear Starscream, you are unwise to show that face to me so soon," he walked over to the smaller mech and took him by the chin; Starscream's expression didn't change, "especially since we have not fully excavated the site. Make no mistake, they are dead. The mass quantities of spilt energon discovered is proof enough. But I can hardly leave any stone unturned for you, can I?"

The seeker said nothing but his faceplates softened into a simple smirk in response, not easily tricked by Megatron's ploy.

The warlord chuckled, "Will I never hear your voice again, my dear second? Perhaps I can coax it out again, if only for a moment," he pulled away to retrieve the cube he had left on his desk, "I will be presenting you with a gift later this evening, my dear Starscream. It will hardly make up for everything they did to sway you from me but perhaps it will prove to you my devotion to your... well being."

Starscream rolled his optics and still said nothing. His well being indeed...

"Do not doubt me yet," Megatron sneered, sipping from his cube, "I have already followed through with my promises to rid you of them. I can promise you now you will join me, whether you truly expect it or not..."