Chapter Text
::Lord Megatron – greetings.::
Near silent pedesteps approached the war monger as he stared out over the landscape that his throne room on Kaon overlooked. Servos clasped behind his back, Megatron looked over his shoulder at Soundwave, his most loyal servant. “Soundwave. Hello.”
::Soundwave – carries information.::
A pleased grin spread across Megatron’s face. He nodded at the few vehicons stationed around the room to leave him and Soundwave alone in peace. “Oh? Tell me, please, what have you discovered?”
Soundwave held up his servos, activating the display screens that were stationed along the rims of the windows. His finials twitched, and the screens lit up with new images.
Megatron’s grip tightened, and his wrists began to ache from the force of it. On the screens, Optimus Prime took front and center, along with a fraction of his dithering Autobots. It didn’t matter how many thousands of stellar-cycles this war extended, he’d never get used to seeing that false Prime’s face.
::Consider Tyger Pax.:: Soundwave invited, turning back to Megatron.
Megatron’s denta clenched. Tyger Pax had been a colossal failure. Not as far as the general Decepticon populace knew; their military had succeeded in their objective, after all. They had brought the great Autobot citadel crashing down, dragging fire from the slag pits of Kaon upon it.
To Megatron and his high command, however, they knew better. They had seen the Allspark launch into the sky, and worse of all, they could have prevented it. Yet they had been hindered on their way to intervene with Optimus Prime’s plans.
Laughing at their despair, the scout resting in a scrapheap at their pedes had been the reason for their failure.
Megatron had made sure, for his blatant mockery of them, that the scout had been thoroughly punished. Unfortunately, ripping him apart had not been nearly as satisfying as Megatron had wanted.
Now, they lived on a dying planet, Primus rusting away. Their reserves of energon were running low, and there had been no new caches found for over a stellar-cycle. Megatron was starting to doubt they would live long enough to win this war.
Altogether, Tyger Pax was an indisputable failure.
“I’m considering it.” Megatron hissed. “And I’m not pleased.”
Soundwave did not flinch like Starscream would have. He knew loyalty was rewarded, and Soundwave was nothing if not obedient. ::Soundwave – understands. Yellow scout – hindered Lord Megatron’s plans. Punished for defiance. Lives.::
Megatron and his forces had tried to leave the little scout for dead. Yet he had caught sight of the pathetic sparkling several stellar-cycles afterwards as part of Optimus’ diplomatic emissary during their last “attempt” at peace.
There hadn’t been a trace of fear on the scout’s face, just bitter determination.
Clearly, his death hadn’t stuck, no doubt due to one of the Autobots’ insufferable medics. Worse yet, he apparently had learned nothing from their encounter. He was just as brash as he had been before.
The betrayal of that particular realization had been harsh.
He already knew all that Soundwave was explaining to him.
“Your point?” He snarled.
::Reconnaissance done into Autobot militia. Soundwave – discovered yellow scout’s designation. Designation: B-127. Optimus Prime’s personal scout.::
Megatron perked up. “Oh? Not just a scout, then? Do we know how far up the chain he is?”
::Low.:: Soundwave apologized. ::Contrary point – Optimus Prime and yellow scout share close bond. Familial in nature. Soundwave suggestion – Decepticon forces capture yellow scout. Use as leverage. Force Optimus Prime to return the Allspark. Additionally surrender. Rumble suggestion – party.::
“Hmm.” Megatron mused, making his way over to his throne. He took his time sitting down in it, his processor turning the information over and over.
The yellow scout had been defiant enough that he had known, logically, that he must have had some skill. Long before the Allspark had been launched, they had been torturing the scout for information in the middle of the battlefield, and yet his dermas had remained sealed tight.
While his frame was befit for a sparkling, Megatron had the wiggling paranoia that it was, perhaps, a disguise instead. What kind of sparkling would be able to hold out under the force of brutal torture and interrogation?
Now, however, Megatron was understanding just what he was. Optimus Prime’s personal scout.
One did not get that responsibility by simply idling around. Megatron had seen the rest of Optimus Prime’s strike team, his “convoy”, multiple times. They were saved for special occasions, for when the Autobots were about to pull their most dastardly plot yet.
The only reason Megatron had mobilized his high command along with him during Tyger Pax was because they had received news that Optimus Prime’s convoy was assembled. The scout had been sent to delay the Decepticon high command. Embarrassingly, he had succeeded.
The scout – what had Soundwave called him? B-127? – had even known of the Allspark. He had to have known, and yet he had survived the endless torture Megatron had put him through until the brilliant blue light filled the sky.
“No,” Megatron’s servos tightened on the armrests on his throne, the metal bending and warping under his grip. The sound of metal screeching against itself filled the room, his audials ringing with the force of it. “No. That scout deserves worse than just being held at ransom. He’s Optimus Prime’s personal scout. His… you said their bond was familial, did you not?”
Soundwave nodded. ::Files report Optimus Prime as yellow scout’s caretaker.::
Megatron sneered. “Of course he is. Only Optimus Prime would do something as foolish as adopt a liability.”
Soundwave’s servo lifted to his own chassis, where his children usually resided. Megatron scoffed at him, and Soundwave lowered it again.
“That scout is not just leverage. He likely knows much about the Autobots’ future plans. His goal as a scout is to learn information about us and report back whatever is useful for furthering their agenda. If the scout is as close to Optimus Prime as you claim, he may know more about the Autobots than any other bot does.” Megatron goaded. A smile painted its way across his face. “How delicious.”
Soundwave didn’t do anything as obvious as shift from pede to pede, but his optics were carefully locked on Megatron, his servos twitching from clear confusion. ::Lord Megatron – possesses a plan?::
“Yes, Soundwave.” Megatron grinned. He lifted up a digit, tapping it against his cheek. “Put out the call to find that little scout, and have him brought directly to me. I want to pry him apart and see exactly what information resides in that helm.”
Soundwave hesitated for just a beat, and then bowed his helm. ::Soundwave – obeys Lord Megatron. Hail the Decepticons.::
It was more of a platitude for Megatron, but he grinned right back. “Yes. Hail the Decepticons.”