Starscream can't believe he is still being forced to endure this conversation, or that he has no conceivable way out of it right now. His eyes dart around for signs of other mechs, but right now this stretch of corridor seems to be utterly empty save for the two of them.

"What do you mean?" Starscream narrows his eyes. "I don't want be in charge of the Decepticons. I loathe politics, and when this war is over, when we win, that's going to be half the job. Besides -- more importantly -- if I'm running the entire Decepticon army, I'm not exactly going to have any time for scientific pursuits." He clenches his jaw. "One of these days, I am going to get my name first on the byline of a paper," he mutters.