Chapter Text
Megatron turns over the contraption in his servos, red optics tracing the harsh lines and sleek shape of the weapon. Just fresh from the space bridge, Shockwave’s newest invention glints, carrying with it the air of Cybertron.
“Shockwave.” Megatron calls.
“Yes, Lord Megatron?”
“What is this exactly?”
Across from Megatron, the image of the Decepticon fourth-in-command flickers over the long distance transmission on the broadcast terminal. At being directly addressed, Shockwave’s sole yellow optic glows in fervour.
“Why, it’s the solution you had requested of me, my lord.”
Upon hearing that, Megatron frowns, looking at the weapon and back to the scientist. Recently, he began to notice a critical weak spot infecting his previously impenetrable faction. Even more corrosive than incompetence or insubordination, this newly founded flaw threatens the very stability of the Decepticons. Incompetence, he can get rid of. Insubordination, he can take care of. However, this problem has Megatron, feared leader of the Decepticons and future ruler of the galaxy…stumped.
The truth of the matter is, the Decepticons are facing a rather debilitating lack of morale.
Regardless of the amount of energon rations or recharge cycles, every mech aboard the Nemesis seems to be functioning on half awake processors and undercharged fuel lines. Just last mega-cycle, he caught Skywarp stuck in a wall after attempting to teleport out of enemy fire during an energon raid. Skywarp didn’t even bother to struggle in his humiliating slip-up, he just sighed and slumped, dangling from where the wall had him divided into two. Needless to say, Megatron isn’t pleased. Gone are the once all-consuming rage of his army, in its place lies a horde of sluggish mechs.
Low morale or not, no mech dares to disobey his orders so far. And yet, even as they waged all-out war on the Autobots, it’s obvious that their sparks just weren’t in it. It’s gotten so bad that even Soundwave’s usual monotone sounds flatter than Megatron thought possible. The Decepticon leader’s latest conundrum thus were all regaled to Shockwave, the only blasted mech left in his command who still seems to have some charge to their spark.
Which makes Shockwave’s response all the more puzzling.
“Are you suggesting I simply shoot at them to jumpstart their circuits? Not a bad suggestion, but I’ve tried that already.” And he swears, he even heard some sighs echo out of the gathered crowd over the hum of his fusion cannon.
On screen, Shockwave shakes his helm. “Negative. Or should I say, it’s not pure brutal violence that I’m suggesting as my answer.”
Megatron impatiently slams a servo down on the control panel. “Don’t keep me waiting. Explain.”
At that, Shockwave leans in closer, shadowing the screen. “Well, you see, my lord; what would you say is the driving force of your magnificent cause? The thing that keeps a Decepticon’s spark warm even in the coldest of nights?”
Megatron lets out a cackle, the answer so simple, it comes forth without command. “Hatred! For the Autobots!”
A nano-klik passes.
“And for complete control of Cybertron and the great wide galaxy! Everybody knows that!” Megatron continues.
Shockwave nods in approval. “Of course. However, from what you have described, it appears that that very source of hatred is no longer sufficient in keeping the armies satisfactorily rallied. It’s deathly unfortunate, but not every mech can be as noble and focused as you, my lord. After all these millennia, something new must be introduced to keep them on their pedes. And that’s where my latest invention comes into play.” Gesturing to the weapon held in Megatron’s grasp, Shockwave announces his achievement with a flourish.
“Introducing, the Love-botimiser 9000!”
Megatron blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”
Despite the lack of visible emotion on Shockwave’s faceplate, something akin to excitement seeps into his optic’s gleam.
“Think about it, Lord Megatron. What is commonly known to be the most powerful of emotions to surge through a mech? These so-called emotions that could power even a minibot to lift steel beams over ten times their weight?”
“Hatred.”
“And…?”
Megatron grimaces, the very shape of the word feeling entirely foreign as it scrapes past his glossa. “L…loathe. You mean loathe right?”
“Exactly. Love! Not that I ever got the appeal of it, but if all-empowering hatred has stopped being effective on the troops, then the next step should be to heighten their sense of love. It’s only logical.”
Megatron draws his gaze back to the weapon on hand. Shiny and elegant, this blaster-like device has a simple trigger mechanism and gun barrel coated in a shell of matte pink. It doesn’t look particularly impressive, but knowing Shockwave…
“So…” Megatron starts, trying to wrap his helm around it. “—you wish, to empower my army, through…the power of…”
“Love.” Shockwave finishes, matter of factly.
He squints his optics, his normally steadfast belief in his Fourth wavering like the wind. “Let me get this right. Your solution is to have my army, the Decepticon army, fall in love?”
“Yes.”
Megatron debates blasting his fusion cannon through the screen. Or better yet, storming right over to Cybertron via space bridge to set back the few loose screws rattling in Shockwave’s processor.
“Is this a joke to you?!” He snarls, growling through clenched denta.
“No! I would never. Let me explain!”
Megatron vents, forcibly calming the charge of his cannon. “Fine. On account of your previous successes, you have one chance. Get over here and demonstrate, in person. But make no mistake, if this turns out to be a waste of my time, I will have you reprogrammed as a maintenance bot!”
Shockwave dutifully nods, hurrying to start up the space bridge as the transmission is put to an end.
Soundwave stalks through the halls of the Nemesis, pedesteps silent and steady. Not many mechs are out at this time of the solar-cycle, with the bulk of the faction likely gathered in the break rooms filling up on energon rations. This makes Soundwave’s current pursuit all the more crucial.
For this target is not one that should be left alone.
Not that his stealth actually mattered, considering how the mech before him is all too aware of the Decepticon’s spymaster at his tail.
“I wasn’t aware that Megatron’s precious Third has this much free time on his servos. Slacking off are we, Soundwave?”
Soundwave exvents, the sound nullified by his mask. “Starscream: acting suspiciously. Warrants: vigil surveillance.”
Starscream scoffs and speeds up his pace. “You’re being ridiculous! I’m just making my rounds!”
“Patrol duty: not assigned to Starscream. Trine members: noticeably missing. Logical conclusion: you’re up to no good. Again.”
“I haven’t even done anything!” Which is true, but Soundwave recognises the telltale signs. By sheer coincidence, he crossed paths with Starscream as he was on route to the surveillance deck, and one glance told Soundwave all he needed to know. The careful neutrality of that faceplate, servos kept tucked behind his back, and the deliberate white noise of his processor. Image of pure innocence, if he was sparked a cycle ago.
“Haven’t done anything, yet.” Soundwave counters. Before Starscream can fire off more excuses though, voices further round the bend gives Soundwave pause, halting his chase of the seeker.
“Rest assured Lord Megatron, I don’t make empty promises.” A voice calls forth. Shockwave.
“See to it that you don’t.” Heavy pedesteps follow. Megatron.
Evidently, Starscream didn’t pick up on the incoming party ahead. The indignant clacking of heel thrusters continue their path onward as Starscream cranes his helm back, continuing his venomous glare.
“Keep your olfactory out of my business! I’m not one of your little cassettes who you can just—!” Starscream promptly rounds the corner, colliding straight on with the purple scientist that has him sprawling on the floor. Having righted himself from the stumble, Shockwave eyes up Starscream with interest.
“Oh, perfect timing, Starscream. Now, allow me to demonstrate the power of the Love-botimiser 9000!”
Out from the blaster held in Shockwave’s grasp, a bright pink plasma bolt is shot into the air with a zap. Thanks to Starscream’s haphazard dodging, the pink blast narrowly misses his shoulder stack, bouncing off the steel wall and further down the corridor. Soundwave sidesteps the shot. Very distantly, his audials pick up further yelping from the bots stationed down the hall. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.
“Shockwave! What’s the meaning of this?!” Starscream demands, voice filled with outrage.
“Simply hold still.”
Decidedly not liking that answer, Starscream scrambles his limbs to push himself back, turning and making a run from Shockwave’s impromptu weapons experiment. The sound of the blaster’s charge fills the hall before a second zap fires, missing its intended mark once again. The sharp angle causes the ray to heavily ricochet, bouncing rapidly across the walls as Soundwave barely escapes its aim by an inch.
“Starscream! I order you to stop moving!” Megatron commands.
“Over my aft!”
Breaking into an all out sprint, Starscream is nearing Soundwave as a third charge begins to build. In a snap, Soundwave makes his decision. He lunges, spreads out his arms, and traps the fleeing mech.
“Wha—!”
With firm servos clamping onto Starscream’s shoulders, Soundwave forcibly drags him over to his front, wrestling him into position to cover himself from range. Alarmed, Starscream tries his damndest to struggle, bright blue claws swiping at Soundwave’s visor while he focuses on keeping him still.
“How dare you!” Starscream screeches, sharp claws leaving multiple harsh scratches in his wake. “Unhand me, you good for nothing, strutless, faceless—“ Soundwave’s vision is quickly marred by long scratch lines until one particularly vicious strike has his visor breaking off entirely, flying off his face and clattering to the floor.
“—glorified Megatron pede-licking piece of—!”
He hears the distinct zap fire. Whatever Starscream meant to yell out was cut short as the pink beam hit its target square on the back, sending Starscream crashing helmfirst into Soundwave from the sheer force of impact. Both mechs are sent tumbling to the ground, with Soundwave having to bear the brunt of every pointy edge of Starscream’s frame.
“Finally, success.” Shockwave intones, leisurely walking over as Megatron follows.
“That remains to be seen, Shockwave. All you’ve managed to do is to incapacitate my high command!”
Soundwave immediately pushes the seeker off, running a quick scan for any dents. With it, he feels the brush of air against exposed optics. It’s a feeling he does not welcome. Meanwhile, Starscream groans, picking himself up. A whole litany of curses can be heard, then angry stomping.
Looking up with a frown, Soundwave watches Starscream looming over him, sporting a scowl to match his own.
“I swear, tape deck.” He spits, Soundwave’s alt-mode leaving his intake like the most vile of curses. “I don’t know what’s in that Primus-forsaken blaster,” Starscream leans in, optics blazing. “but if you think I’m letting you get away with that,” Those optics widen. “You.” Soundwave braces himself. “Are more of a simpleton” Soundwave readies his shoulder cannon. “than I—“ Soundwave tenses.
“T-than…I…“
Soundwave watches.
“Than…”
Soundwave waits.
“I…”
Starscream falters.
…
Soundwave:…confused. Standing by the side, Shockwave hastily types something on a datapad as Megatron merely observes.
Starscream, whose fury seemed to reach supernova only a moment ago, has stopped. His intake hangs open mid-word, outrage halted. Taking the opening for what it is, Soundwave promptly regains ground. He transforms his servo to unleash his concussion blaster, drawing full charge and aiming right at Starscream’s cockpit. Although, even with a weapon pointed directly at him, Starscream remains still, his gaze never once leaving Soundwave’s. Faceplate eerily slack, anger has long voided from his features. What’s left is a strange mixture of intensity and calm, derma set in a thin line paired with an unwavering stare.
Consulting his databases, Soundwave finds that his readings conclude…inscrutable. Soundwave doesn’t recognise that expression, and something he doesn’t recognise is something potentially dangerous, especially when Starscream is involved. Hence, the Communications Officer prepares for a struggle, priming his outlier to the fullest to dip into that chaotic mind. However, instead of the challenge he expected, what he discovers leaves him further confused.
Starscream’s defensive layer of white noise has vanished. In its place plays not of his treacherous thoughts, but instead it’s of music of all things, low and brassy. Luxurious notes wind through that drawling tempo, drawing sensuously in sync with crooning instruments. It carries the melody, whispering against his processor, leaving crackling static wherever it touches. Having an extensive collection of Cybertronian music in his spacious memory drives, Soundwave recognises that track for what it is. It’s of distinct Vosian style. More specifically, it’s famous for being used in Vosian love dramas, full of tension and yearning. Studying Starscream’s expression closely, he realises with growing dread that the seeker’s gaze is heavy with want.
All of which is aimed at Soundwave.
Just then, almost as if beyond Starscream’s control, a murmur rings out in the silent hall. “Never seen your optics before…” Soundwave jerks back and Starscream steps in, trancedly, mesmerised even.
“…pretty.”
Soundwave feels his tanks churn.
“Success! A resounding success!” Shockwave exclaims, a furious rhythm of taps filling the hall as the scientist records his results with glee. “Lord Megatron, it works like a charm! Incredible! Not even a mech as stubborn as Starscream could resist the effects!”
Not wanting to be under that expectant stare for even a nano-klik longer, Soundwave dives for his broken visor, snatching it up and putting it on. That does little to dissuade his sudden admirer though, as Starscream chooses to saunter right up to him, closing the distance between them as a confident smirk plays on his faceplate. “Looking flustered there, Soundwave. What’s the matter?”
Heeled pedes move, every step forward for Soundwave’s every step back.
“Glossa malfunctioning, Soundwave?” That raspy voice lilts, wings fluttering, all too coquettishly. Soundwave can only grimace.
“Starscream: finally lost his processor.”
“On the contrary Soundwave…” he tilts his helm, smirk growing wider. “I simply know which mech is worth my time now.” Soundwave’s back meets the end of the hall and Starscream rushes in, sharp digits ghosting over his arm with intent.
“You.” He says, with all the misplaced confidence in the world. Soundwave blanches.
Throughout all of this, the backtrack of Shockwave’s frantic tapping and Megatron’s entertained cackling accompanies the scene. Soundwave’s utter discomfort runs through it all, burning through every wire in his body.
Despite it all though, this is still Starscream he’s dealing with. And that, he is familiar with.
Soundwave places a firm servo on his red shoulder stack, gripping hard, “Oh? Feeling bold this cycle aren’t we—“ and pulls, throwing the seeker off entirely.
“Recommendation: go get your helm checked.”
The garnered sound of shrieked complaining almost feels like a respite.
Hopefully, whatever Shockwave did to him will wear off soon enough.
As it turns out, Soundwave realised, things simply weren’t that easy.
Spreading and infecting nearly every Decepticon aboard the Nemesis, love is in the air. It’s in the optics, in the circuits and in the sparks of those who have fallen.
It’s all a precariously controlled catastrophe.
Mecha, long battle-hardened from millennia of war, are tripping over their pedes for romance. Sighing, pining, and besotted swoons, those are common sights littering the ship. And their processors, all fixated on the object of their infatuations, have been transmitted and channeled to Soundwave’s attention. Every love-struck thought is exposed by his outlier. He never thought he would see the cycle, but after hearing how many unique ways mechs could describe Megatron’s fusion cannon (among other features), Soundwave — for the first time in his creation — simply wished for his outlier to spare him the details.
Megatron’s latest command, spearheaded by Shockwave’s invention, is quickly becoming an all encompassing helmache. Dismissing Starscream after he got shot by that blaster, Megatron summoned him and Shockwave to the command centre whereby Soundwave was briefed on the plan.
A plan that involves playing matchmech.
Shockwave’s blaster is designed to make any mech fall in love with another. Or more accurately, it’s designed to simulate the feelings of “love” as its mad creator understands it. Affecting both emotional and logical protocols, Shockwave has imbued the pink energy blasts with an extremely potent nano-virus. Upon being hit, the blast first beelines its way straight to the spark, altering the frequency to have its pulse fluctuate wildly. This covers the physical aspect. Then, the processor is up next — the virus containing an override command that infects its way through layers of conscious thought. An override command of “deep longing”. With both effects paired together, the result is a simulation of intense infatuation, all of the effects activating upon first optic contact with another mech upon being hit.
And upon being hit, Soundwave had been the first mech Starscream saw.
That…certainly helped to explain things.
“With these feelings of infatuation,” Shockwave droned on, laser pointer in servo as he clicked to the next projected slide, “the victim would be thus susceptible to the demands made by the object of their desires. For example…” Shockwave paused, preparing for the next segment.
“Increased duty shifts.” Another click.
“More training drills.” Megatron perked up.
“And of course, more effort to the cause.” Shockwave concluded, tone full of finality.
Megatron had grinned, and Soundwave knew then and there that if he didn’t step in, he was going to regret it.
“Shockwave’s plan: has all but one major flaw.” Soundwave interjected, trying his best to ignore Megatron’s resulting frown.
“And what may that be?” Shockwave hummed.
“Element of “love”: fundamentally volatile. Emotional army: hard to control. Plan: prone to backfire. Soundwave: suggests we reconsider.” And reverse the SIC back to normal, but that part went unsaid.
Soundwave, for a single moment, had thought that that did it. It’s a genuine flaw, one that can prove fatal if the enemy ever gets wind of it. Alas, Shockwave’s response was to merely flick to another slide, revealing part 2 of the Love-botimiser’s use.
He probably should’ve tried harder to convince Megatron to abandon the plan. Despite where his loyalties lie, Megatron can admittedly be short-sighted in the worst of times. And yet, somehow, Soundwave can’t find it in himself to intervene too much this time.
Perhaps he’s just tired.
Currently though, as Soundwave collects his energon in the rec room, he simply tunes everybody out. Or tries to, at least. He’s on his assigned break, and he did promise his cassettes he would try to cut back on overworking. Still, upon sitting down in a table tucked near to the corner, Soundwave can’t help but to observe it all.
Ramjet is staring forlornly at Astrotrain, who in turn is talking to Thrust, who is ignoring him in favour of looking for Blitzwing, all the while Blitzwing has long left to chase after Dirge. And Dirge left in the first place, because he was following Slipstream.
Behold. The sheer power of the Love-botimiser 9000.
Thankfully, his standing in the army allowed his cassettes to be spared.
“Not to fret Soundwave.” Shockwave had said, right after Soundwave’s interruption. “It’s illogical to leave such a gaping flaw in my plan. I appreciate the concern, but that concern is wholly unnecessary.” The subsequent slide depicted multiple mechs lined up in a row, with Megatron on the tail end.
“To keep control over the army firm and predictable, we’ll employ a linear approach to keep matters tidy. This is how it’ll go.”
Another click and the graphic changed. Each mech in the line had an arrow pointed to the one in front. “By using my invention, a clear chain of command will be established. Each soldier will be assigned to another to experience the full effects of the Love-botimiser. The exact order can be classified by rank or by alt mode for convenience.”
Next slide. An explosion of hearts. Every one of them directed at the image of Megatron on screen. “Then, we simply funnel all the love created by the Love-botimiser 9000 into one controlled avenue.” Shockwave tapped the screen with his pointer. “All to Lord Megatron and the cause.”
Shockwave turned to his audience of two, yellow optic bright. “Everything is an expendable resource if we simply try hard enough. And in this case, unrequited love shall be the fuel we burn for the cause.”
Megatron had greenlit the plan then and there; and the rest was history.
“Woah. This place really went to the pits, didn’t it?”
Snapping out of his reverie, Soundwave looks down to face Rumble as Frenzy clambers up the bench opposite, each holding energon cubes. “They’ve finally lost it! You should’ve seen the brig Soundwave. All those mushy gushy feelings and junk. Blech!”
Soundwave has, in fact, seen the brig. It was an endless loop of one mech trying to impress the other. Although, with everyone on their best (desperate) behaviour, productivity really is through the roof. Seekers competing to see who can hit the most targets, triple changers vying to show off their dexterity, and tanks trying to outdo one another based on sheer power alone; all in an aim to please.
Soundwave supposes he can’t say that the troops are suffering from low morale anymore.
“Soundwave: advises cassettes to follow standard protocols.”
In other words, keep their helms down.
Rumble snorts, elbowing Frenzy as he sneers at the other tables’ antics. “You won’t see us falling for this scrap Soundwave, that's for sure.”
“Hey, at least this spices things up! Now we get free entertainment!”
“Yeah! It used to be dull as nails! This is way better!”
Just then, a figure creeps up on the table of three. Soundwave watches from the corner of his optics as Swindle approaches them, faceplate in a smarmy grin. “Now now Frenzy,” Swindle says, talking to Rumble. “You shouldn’t be so hasty. Love has the chance of catching any mech off guard, and you wouldn’t want to fall helm-first no? Not like so many of our fellow ‘cons here.”
“Ugh it’s this guy.” Frenzy mutters, before turning to address the conmech directly. “Scram, you scrap-selling sneak! We don’t want whatever you’re dealing!” A look of exaggerated dismay floods those large optics, Swindle bringing a servo to rest on his chassis.
“Why, no need for such rude language gentlemechs. Besides, even if you two are too unsophisticated for romance, that may not be the case for Soundwave here.”
“Hey! Who are you callin’ unshfisticated?!”
Ignoring his cassettes entirely, Swindle smoothly reaches into his subspace, pulling out a crystal heart-shaped box. The cover is then lifted, revealing plush lining that holds a display of rust sticks and bright jewels, sparkling under the overhead lights.
Swindle grins. “Take my word for it Soundwave, if you have a mech you’re vying for, a romantic gift is the way to go. Finest quality you can get on the Nemesis, that I guarantee.” Swindle brings the box closer to Soundwave’s face, letting him have a good look. “And you know what they say; tall, dark and handsome is a killer combo these cycles. Especially with this.”
“Query.” Soundwave states, looking the salesmech in the optic.
“Questions about the product?” Swindle responds eagerly, the prospect of a sale swimming in his greedy processor. “If it’s about the price, I’ll cut you a deal and say…75 shanix? I’m doing you a favour cutting it down from market price I’ll have you know.”
Soundwave wordlessly takes the box and lifts up the plush lining, turning it around to show Swindle. Underneath the satin lies a short phrase, carved into the crystal; to Swindle, with love.
A look of panic crosses Swindle’s face and he snatches the box back, that showy smile starting to strain as he fidgets.
“You…read my mind, didn’t you?”
Soundwave doesn’t deign to respond.
“What?! You’re pedalin’ used goods! ‘Finest quality’ my aft!”
Swindle mutters a curse under a vent before snapping back at Rumble. “Oh keep a lid on it. As you can clearly see, I didn’t use a single thing. Mint condition, full market value.”
“Wow. I almost feel sorry for the poor slagger that made this.” Frenzy snarks, helm shaking in mock sympathy.
“Oh? Sorry for who?”
Soundwave stiffens as another frame enters the fray. He curses his luck. So far, he’s managed to limit their interactions to the bare minimum, sacrificing a brief passing by in the halls only if absolutely necessary. In fact, only after thoroughly checking the other’s roster did he deem it safe to take his break. Therefore, this surprise can only mean one thing.
Starscream caught on to what he was doing and deliberately went off schedule.
Seeing a fresh new victim, Swindle immediately swivels, gearing up to rewind his sales pitch. “Starscream! Just the mech I want to see! Say, you must have your optics set on someone too right? A flashy bot like you?”
“Don’t I know it.” Starscream drawls out, every word coated in artificial love as those blazing optics set their sights on his desire. Soundwave pointedly avoids that gaze. There goes any chance of keeping this under wraps.
Swindle though, instantly perks back up.
“In that case, I have just the product for you! As irresistible as you already are, this lovely box of gifts surely wouldn’t hurt your chances!” Another grin and the box is given a shake. “What do you say?”
Starscream gets closer to the table and sits right next to Soundwave, the other’s presence invading his field. “Oh, Swindle. If only that mech is so easily wooed.” He sighs, overly dramatic. “I’m afraid he won’t even spare a glance my way. If I’m not mistaken, he’s even gone so far as to avoid me.” Starscream leans further in and Soundwave resists the urge to punch him. “Clearly he doesn’t appreciate the finer things in life. Such a pity, but there’s no accounting for bad taste it seems.”
Having had enough, Soundwave moves to shift away but a pede quickly crosses over to hook around his. Startled, Soundwave makes the mistake of looking at him. It’s clear that the Love-botimiser’s effects haven't dampened one bit.
“Still running away Soundwave? I didn’t take you for a coward.”
At such a brazen display, the other occupants of the table pause, the implications settling in. Soundwave can feel Frenzy and Rumble boring holes into the side of his helm. His visor does a poor job of blocking the impacts of their staring. The only mech to take it in stride is Swindle, with him letting out a whistle at the revelation before continuing to hawk his blasted gift box.
“Well, sounds like he’s a hard mech to please! Let me tell you what, what if we…”
However, Swindle’s smooth talk falls on deaf audials. Starscream remains turned to him, red optics drunkenly aglow. After being on the receiving end of that look more times than he ever wanted to in his functioning, he can only describe that look with one word.
Lovesick.
If Soundwave were to read his mind now, he can bet that the same Vosnian love song is playing on loop.
Not wishing to test the limits of Starscream’s boldness, Soundwave abruptly shakes off that pede, stands up, and leaves before the winged menace can do otherwise. Brisk speed and prickly field, even someone as shameless as Starscream should get the hint. Curiously, and just a little thankfully, Rumble and Frenzy don’t follow. Despite trying to appear unaffected, a feeling clings to his frame, one that he can’t fully shake. It’s not unlike the feelings he used to get when Megatron calls for retreat.
He feels restless. Indignant.
And maybe…just a little bit inferior.
“Relax Soundwave! Maybe this ain’t so bad!” Rumble exclaims, small servo patting his host on the back. “Slag, this means you practically have him wrapped around your digits!”
“Yeah!” Frenzy chimes in, handing over Soundwave’s earlier cube of untouched energon. “And it’s all under Meg’s orders! You practically have a free pass to mess with him!”
Upon finding their host sitting (sulking) in his quarters, the twins flocked to him instantly. As a proud host of his cassettes, he should be a strong dependable figure for them. Their leader. Their guardian. The ever unwavering Soundwave.
Needless to say, this whole ordeal is beyond embarrassing.
Under the twins’ barrage of questions and himself running dry on fumes, Soundwave buckled. He told them everything. Starscream and Shockwave, Love-botimiser 9000 and all. Although, after all of that, he’s in no mood to talk any further.
“Frenzy, Rumble: drop the subject.”
“But think about it! All the perks! All the pranks! You’ve got ta’ ride this for all it’s worth! Tell him Ravage!”
Lounging on her berth, the cassette spy barely flicks an audial. “Think about someone other than yourselves for once, you scraplets.” Ravage hisses, “Starscream clearly isn’t his type.”
The twins share a look of disgust. “Yuck! I mean—yeah, the boss is clearly dating down the ladder here.” Rumble mumbles, his enthusiasm curbed. “He can definitely do much better.”
“Duh. Only the best for the boss.”
A warm sensation spreads in his tanks and Soundwave softens, somewhat; until he hears what they have to say next.
“If only that love beam hit old Megs…he’s way more useful than Screamer!”
“Yeah! If the boss ever manages to seduce Megs, the possibilities are practically endless—!“
“Soundwave: has no intention to get romantically involved. With anyone.” Soundwave blares out, halting that train of thought right there. “Sentiments of cassettes: appreciated. But the current status is satisfactory. Proposed suggestions: not needed.”
In response, the twins groan, fantasies thoroughly dashed. Surprisingly though, it is Ravage that speaks up next.
“As trivial as their priorities are, the nuisances have a point.” Ravage then stretches, regarding the three fully. “Despite these circumstances being forced upon you, things can be manipulated to work in your favour.” A sharp glint shines in her optics, calculating and cold. “Nobody is asking you to reciprocate. Surely, having an infatuated Starscream isn’t completely useless. He is still second-in-command. There are things to be gained.”
Soundwave stills.
It all clicks.
The conversation then continues, with the twins serving suggestions on just what can be gained (Screamer’s going to be real useful if he coughs up the seeker security codes!) while Ravage responds in irritation (You two are the useless ones here.) However, it all blurs into the background as Soundwave only half listens to his cassettes, his power systems being rerouted, working overtime, to piece together a plan.
Starscream may not have anything useful to give to him per say.
But he definitely has plenty to give to the cause.
He is, after all, still second-in-command.
It’s a mega-cycle before the upcoming major energon raid when Soundwave chooses to make his move. Ensuring that the hallways would be clear after inspecting every surveillance camera in the vicinity, the Communications Officer simply waits.
Any klik now.
Right on schedule, Starscream exits his quarters to head to the seeker military drills, leaving Soundwave with a small opening for him to take action. He’s not looking forward to this. Still, it’s for the cause.
Soundwave approaches, stance sure and solid. Upon noticing him, Starscream looks surprised. Soundwave rushes in before he can so much as open his intake.
“Soundwave: proposes a deal.”
An optic ridge rises and Starscream sniffs.
“You’ve been avoiding me for cycles and now you demand something from me without even saying hello? You sure know how to make a mech feel unwanted, Soundwave.”
That’s precisely because he is. However, Soundwave supposes that will have to change if he wants the plan to succeed. He vents.
For the cause.
“Starscream’s presence: acknowledged. Soundwave: proposes a deal.”
Starscream remains where he is, rolling his optics. “Always business with you. You really have no charm.” He sighs and inspects his claws, putting an air of indifference. “Do make it fast though, I actually have places to be.”
Soundwave briefly catalogues the fact that the Love-botimiser doesn’t completely override that obnoxious personality. Nonetheless, Soundwave catches on to the minute quivering of those wings that Starscream himself doesn’t seem to notice. Ready to take flight, or to pounce. Soundwave takes a step back. Still susceptible then. Good.
Hopefully, it’ll make this easier.
(Even if his logic protocols doubt it.)
“Starscream’s affections: hereby acknowledged.”
Optics widen and Starscream looks up, attention fully captured. Strengthening his nerves, Soundwave pushes himself to proceed. There’s no going back now, even if every part of his frame wants nothing more than to reject what comes next.
For. The. Cause.
“Soundwave: willing to participate.”
Starscream’s intake hangs open, his frame completely still. As a precaution, Soundwave activates his outlier. The others' processor isn’t cloaked behind white noise for once, allowing his thoughts to ring clear in Soundwave’s audials.
Wow. I didn’t think I’d actually get this far.
Starscream frowns and white noise comes flooding back in. Soundwave continues.
“Caveat—“
“And of course.” Comes the mutter.
“Soundwave’s participation: hinges on Starscream’s contribution to the cause.”
Soundwave waits for a response, gauging the seeker’s reaction to the crux of his plan. With shock fading from Starscream’s features, disbelief quickly surfaces.
“What.”
Admittedly, Soundwave hoped for a more enthusiastic response.
“Contributions to the cause: can be measured by performance reviews.” Soundwave elaborates, hoping that the other is merely confused. “Performance as Decepticon Air Commander: has room for improvement.”
Starscream sputters. “Excuse me?!”
“Energon raids: barely sustainable as is. Decepticon Air Forces: not being utilised to their fullest potential.”
Soundwave is met with a thoroughly unamused glare.
“I must say, this is new. Using yourself as a bargaining chip? If this is coming from any other mech, I would feel offended.” Starscream glances away, looking entirely put upon. “There really is nothing sacred to you when it comes to our dearest Lord Megatron, hm? I suppose I should’ve seen this coming.”
Soundwave swallows down his surging annoyance, and waits.
“But fine, I’ll bite.” Starscream says, derma curled in a smirk. “How much for a date? Set your price, tape deck.”
Primus grant him patience.
“Next raid: 40% increase in energon gain.” Soundwave bites out, not bothering to keep irritation from leaking into his voice. Starscream scoffs.
“Forty percent? Don’t make yourself sound cheap.” That smirk widens, sharp denta flashing.
“I’ll do fifty.”
Soundwave scowls.
“Renewed deal: 60.”
Those optics harden.
“And the prize is a date? With you? Alone?”
Soundwave growls. “Conditions: agreeable.”
At that, Starscream lets out a laugh, cackles, and positively snarls.
Determined.
“Deal.”
The next raid comes and goes, with the Decepticon armed forces returning to the Nemesis with brilliant smiles painted on their faces. Shaking off the post-battle high, they take into account just how much energon they stole from the targeted facility.
70%.
The Decepticons managed to achieve a staggering 70% increase in energon gain.
Soundwave wishes he could discredit Air Command. Alas, he saw it with his own optics. Starscream delivered. And then some.
The raid was a tremendous success.
Amidst the celebrations, the army rowdy and victory-drunk, the Decepticon Communications Officer finds himself slightly unsure as to how he should feel. Soundwave sips on his increased energon ration—everybody’s increased energon ration—and feels the general waves in the air.
The main hall is alive, every bot’s thoughts buzzing all around him.
Morale has never been higher.
As Megatron delivers his congratulatory speech (all the while blatantly ignoring the longing glances directed at him), Soundwave finds his processor stuck on one thing in particular, even as he tries his hardest to absorb Megatron’s words.
It’s Starscream’s pointed look at him, all the way from across the hall, entirely triumphant and way too smug.
Somehow, Soundwave feels as if he got played.