Engineering, Transformers 2007 movie (Megatron/Starscream) Title: Engineering Author: Apathy Rating: Strong PG-13 Warnings: Violence. Word count: 1589. Prompt: Megatron/Starscream: punishment - "you’ve failed me yet again" Summary: Megatron pays Starscream a little visit. Purely for social reasons, of course. A/N: Gah, finally. As some of you may know, I'm way behind on prompts, because RL is a bitch. A bitch with really crappy timing. Also, I'm lazy. Anyway, I'm trying to catch up, although I doubt I'll be back on track any time soon.
This story is set many moons before the movie. Hell, it's set well before the prequel comic.
'Well, well. You have been the busy little underling, haven't you?'
To Starscream's credit, he doesn't jump at the intrusion, doesn't subspace the jumble of tech scattered across his benchtop.
To the average observer, his actions would appear entirely innocent. Only Megatron's intimate knowledge of the way Starscream works allows him to sense the minuscule signs that betray his guilt.
The slight tensing of his wings. The whirring of fight-or-flight systems brought to full alert. The infinitesimal elevation of body temperature.
The fact that he is Starscream.
His Air Commander turns to face him.
'Lord Megatron. You honour me with your presence.' Even his salute is dripping with obsequiousness.
'Oh, don't let me stop you. I do so value Decepticons who put in extra work during their spare time. All of their spare time, in fact. Why, I can't remember the last time you took a break.'
'I live to serve.'
'Oh, I have no doubt that you do.' Megatron approaches the bench and picks up a half-finished device, noting Starscream's almost-imperceptible flinch in the periphery of his vision. He turns it over in his hands and peers closely, as if examining it critically, before tossing it back onto the bench. 'A more self-serving Decepticon I have never met.'
He rotates his head, allowing his mouth to stretch slowly into a smile that reveals all of his teeth. It has the desired effect, as he'd known it would: Starscream twitches, barely refraining from cowering back.
'Lord Megatron? Sir?'
Without warning, Megatron lashes out, lightning-fast, going straight for Starscream's cockpit. His claws skitter off with a crackle of energy, leaving his second utterly unharmed.
He shakes his head. 'Now, that's not regulation shielding tech.'
Starscream, for once, is speechless. His optics glow to the point of incandescence.
'I take it you were going to share your findings with me just as soon as you were certain it functioned correctly?'
Starscream jerks his wings in acquiescence. 'Of course, my Lord! I've just been working out the glitches.'
'And this is the only thing you have been working on.'
'Yes, sir. Well, the only thing I have completed. There have been other projects, but none have yet been successful. Although I assure you that they will be soon.' The Air Commander bows his head, ostensibly out of respect, and Megatron can pick up just the subtlest hint of a smirk in his voice. Starscream's acting has become better over the vorns, but he's never quite managed to master the art of waiting until after the victory before gloating.
'Oh, is that so? Well, I'm glad to hear that.' He drums his fingers casually against the benchtop. 'So, I suppose that you have a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why your speed and manoeuvrability have improved to the point where you're now faster and more agile than any other Seeker in the fleet. Faster than our techs can make any Seeker go, no matter what they try.'
'... Sir?'
'Or as to why your closest rivals suddenly develop, shall we say, fatal flaws in their programming.'
'I... do not know what you're trying to imply, sir.'
Megatron does not move, letting his words do the intimidating for him. Not his usual style, but he has to admit that they come in useful on occasion. Especially against a pompous little fool like Starscream, who likes to think of himself as an intellectual, able to win any debate.
'Or as to why you seem to be using weaponry that, as far as any of my scientists can tell, should not exist.'
'What... what... no!'
'Or as to why you appear to be in possession of technology that prevents anyone else from scanning and replicating your inventions.'
... And, there it is. Just one tiny step backwards, but it's there.
Now he presses the advantage, advancing with predatory grace, backing his babbling Air Commander into the corner.
'I... sir! It's not like that! I was just testing them out!'
'For forty-seven thousand meta-cycles?'
'I was being thorough!'
Enough is enough -- Megatron slams Starscream into the wall, relishing the shattering of glass and the wail of pain that cuts through it. He twists his claws further in, pinning his treacherous second to the wall.
'I can be thorough, too.'
Starscream's face curls into a sneer, all pretence gone. 'It took you long enough. You have no idea, the number of things I have created. The technology that I will use to lead the Decepticons to glorious victory.'
And oh, this is more like it. This is what he wants in a Second-in-Command -- the drive, the ambition, the pure, undiluted hatred. Mindless loyalty has its place, but he also wants the fire, wants for his officers to be crawling over each other's carcasses in order to gain the privilege of serving beside him. Wants them to push themselves to the limit, to inspire those beneath them to do the same, to fuel the hatred and channel it against the wretched Autobots.
They will have to be eliminated eventually if they do not know their place, of course -- and he is certain that Starscream falls firmly into this category -- but that does not mean that they cannot serve a purpose in the meantime.
Megatron does not understand creativity -- beyond the many interesting ways in which he can maul his enemies, anyway -- but he knows that the Decepticons require it. Creative thinking is why he has his wings, while his dear brother is still dragging his aft in the slag. He shudders a little at the thought.
Yes, creativity has its place. Its own strictly-defined, very small place. There are some limits his techs need to push.
And punishing those who push too far is always good for keeping everyone in line.
He digs in deeper, harder, until he draws out a low moan of pain. 'No idea? Oh, I think I have some idea.' He flicks an internal switch, and Starscream stiffens and jerks for a moment, before going limp.
'What...?'
'Disruptor tech. I believe you call it a "null ray".'
He can see Starscream's processor straining to work it out. 'Wait -- my shields -- how did you -- '
His voice turns mocking. 'It took you long enough. You took all precautions when it came to keeping other people from scanning your inventions, Starscream. You did not take nearly enough when it came to keeping them from being stolen.' He allows himself a rare, genuine smile. 'Never underestimate the power of a good smash-and-grab. You'd do well to remember that low-tech approaches have their advantages.'
The expression on Starscream's face will keep him energised for many, many long nights. And in this one moment, the upgrades to his systems -- in all their intrusive agony -- are worth it.
'It didn't take Hook long to reverse-engineer all of your little weapons... and ways to overcome them. I possess all of your advantages... as well as all of my own. And they are not inconsiderable.'
Starscream snarls, or attempts to, facial components still only half-responding. 'So, what now? You leave me hanging here for all eternity? Rip my spark out? Slap me around in front of the troops again, so you feel like a big, bad 'Con?'
'Hardly.'
Instead, he simply reaches up inside Starscream's torso with his free hand, until his fingers find the spark chamber.
And then, slowly, inexorably, he allows his grip to tighten.
Starscream doesn't visibly react at first, merely continuing to fling insults and threats. He's quite creative about it; were the situation different, Megatron might almost be amused. As it is, he merely files the better examples away for later use. After all, there are rare occasions when scrapping his own troops as punishment isn't feasible, no matter how much he may wish otherwise.
However, as his hand constricts, Starscream's defiance begins to bleed away, to be replaced by fear-flared optics and barely-coherent jabber.
' -- I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't mean it, I didn't think I was doing anything wrong, please forgive me, Lord Megatron, I work for you, only for you, please -- '
Disgusted, Megatron releases his grip on spark chamber and Seeker alike, and Starscream crumples to the floor. The Air Commander cries out in pain, clutching at his midsection in a feeble effort to keep his internals internal.
'Weak.'
'S-sir?'
'You're a sorry excuse for an Air Commander. You're a sorry excuse for a Decepticon.'
'I... Megatron, I....'
He turns and strides out of the lab, one sweep of his arm sending Starscream's work shattering to the floor. The other arm sends the door flying across the passageway.
He has what he wanted. Starscream is on notice, has been brought back in line -- at least for now, at least as much as he ever can be -- and Megatron's had a nice maiming-and-begging session thrown into the bargain.
It's not nearly as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be. He knows what he should do with Starscream, knows exactly what role his Air Commander should be playing, and how he should be playing it... but there's a part of him that enjoys the game between them. That wants Starscream to push against him, even as that same part of him wants Starscream destroyed, blasted to a million pieces and ground beneath his heel.
Confusion is not a state he is used to, and he does not like it.
He snarls, and goes off in search of some heavy-duty violence.