Chapter Text
Soundwave was watching the sun rise over Tyrest from his new habsuite window. Living underground in the Gladiator Pits for so long, he had not had the chance to appreciate such views in quite some time. As the sun rose it covered the desert landscape with gold, colors reflecting in the sky hazy colors of pinks and reds. The beauty of it calmed him in a way he only felt when he held his loved ones near. Even now, he held his new twin sparklings, Rumble and Frenzy, slumbering, in his arms. Golden light streamed through the window onto their small faceplates giving them a halo effect. His partner, Shockwave, approached, energon bottle in servo, prepared for when the twins woke. Shockwave had once told him that in concert with Soundwave’s notions of the twins being a blessing, he saw them as the only piece of evidence for divine will. Seeing the two now, escaped from the darkness of the Pits and haloed with the golden light of the sun, he could see the exact logic of that statement. Shockwave placed his servo on Soundwave’s shoulder pad, taking a moment to take the sight of the sunrise in with his partner.
Rumble's optics burst open, little throat bursting open in a scream. You would have thought he was dying. His brother woke at his twin's screams, joining the chorus. Shockwave took Frenzy in his servo, switching an energon bottle into Soundwave's servo as he did so, a practiced movement done so often that it had become a commonplace gesture. The two sat together feeding the twins until coolant tears stopped flowing and the twins stopped screaming. When the energon bottle was finished Frenzy let it go with a satisfied pop and snuggled close to his Sire's side, promptly falling asleep once again. Shockwave's audial fins twitched in fascination as they always did when he watched one of his sons, optics locked fiercely on the tiny frame. His focus was steady as if he was sifting through thousands of packets of data. For him, every day with the twins was a different type of experiment. In the same way he would log entries on his experiments, he logged data about every single new movement and vocalization the twins made into his processor. His academic curiosity knew no bounds, and neither did his curiosity about the life that he held in his arms.
Rumble looked at the two of them together, optics locked firmly on his brother. Soundwave moved to arrange him so he could be next to Frenzy on Shockwave’s arm. Shockwave's fierce gaze moved to him. Soundwave tried to ignore the feeling of being examined by his partner, but felt the blush of his protoform form on his exposed faceplate, battle mask retracted in the safety of the habsuite. Rumble snuggled in next to his brother and fell asleep as well. Soundwave's hand moved to cradle Shockwave's helm. In a rare movement, Shockwave actually moved to meet his servo, optic blinking dimly in a haze. Soundwave stood above him, using both servos now to cradle his helm, forehelm touching his. He reached out with his power. As always he could read no thoughts from Shockwave, but his EM field read pure satisfaction.
Shockwave was not one to quantify beauty, but the way the light of the sun streamed into the window and fell on to Soundwave’s plates, hazily silhouetting him in golden pink light was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
……………….
It had been two vorns since Sentinel Prime had fallen to the hands of Megatron. In that time the Decepticons had moved their base from the Gladiator Pits of Kaon to the rocky mountains of Tyrest, a new Prime calling himself Optimus Prime had been crowned, and Shockwave had grown adjusted to caring for two growing sparklings. Even now as he sat in the Tyrest base's new war room, he kept a steady gaze on his two sons. They were cradled in the arms of their Carrier, asleep, as Shockwave hoped they would remain for the rest of this meeting. Two fussy sparklings would be a very unpleasant interruption to the current proceedings. Soundwave sat to the left of Megatron, seated further away than Shockwave would have liked at the massive square table, but Soundwave gazed back at him, visor bright with recognition. His optical ridges were raised and Shockwave was sure if he removed Soundwave’s mask he would see a smile there, just for him.
Megatron sat at the head of the table in a large, ornate throne, painted black. To his right sat Starscream, the recently promoted Second in Command. Across from Shockwave on the right side of the table sat Thundercracker and Skywarp, Starscream’s trine members and newly promoted lieutenants of the Decepticon army. Shockwave was sure if he could hear Soundwave’s thoughts he would have heard complaint that Starscream’s trine members were promoted so easily just through their association with him. Or maybe he wouldn’t hear such complaint, Soundwave wasn’t always bothered by such things. Around the table sat other newly promoted lieutenants, either former gladiators, or promising recruits Megatron had rewarded the role. Among the gladiators sat Overlord, Scorponok, Astrotrain and Breakdown. Shockwave knew vaguely of Astrotrain from a few encounters and was familiar with Breakdown, due to the cassettes’ fondness of him. Though unacquainted with the other two, their massive and intimidating frames left no doubt that they had won many matches in their days in the arena. Hook, as Chief of Medicine and a veteran resident of the Pits also sat at the table.
Among the recruits sat Deadlock, a terrifying white frame with large shoulder pads and double pistols, Motormaster, a large grounder type with massive wheels on his back, and the twin spark duo Skyquake and Dreadwing, flyers larger in size than Starscream and his trine. The two were recruited together and when asked to serve as lieutenants agreed under the condition that they be deployed together. With Soundwave’s own twin flying cassette’s and now his own twin spark sons, he found those two lieutenants to be of particular interest as twin sparks were supposed to be rare on Cybertron.
Shockwave’s thoughts were diverted as Megatron stood from his throne, gathering the attention of all who had been collected.
“I now call the first war meeting of the Decepticons convened,” said Megatron, waving his servo. He stood for a minute, optics closed. When he opened them he started to speak. “Orion Pax, that betrayer, is now the new Prime. He works in service of The Senate to dismantle this resistance movement. That cannot be allowed to happen.” Megatron slammed his servos down on the table.
Starscream’s wings fluttered for a klik. “Precisely, as Megatron said. As Second in Command, I suggest-”
“Starscream,” Megatron interrupted. “You will call me Lord Megatron when you address me.” Starscream’s wings dipped to the ground. Megatron looked around the table with hard optics. “In fact, you will ALL address me as Lord.” The room was silent.
Astrowing coughed, clearing some of the tension. “Does Optimus hold the Matrix of Leadership?”
Megatron’s servos slid off the table as he settled into his chair. “From everything we have surveilled on the Autobot encampment, it appears that he does. For more on that-” Megatron waved a servo to Soundwave. His chest compartment retracted, allowing Ravage to deploy. Her graceful, slender, cybercat form launched onto the large table before her. She pressed a few buttons displaying a large holo screen above the table for all the mechs to see.
“The Autobots have set up a temporary base on the edge of the badlands.” Ravage explained, photos popping up on the holoscreen as she explained. The images showed temporary tents taken from a faraway vantage point in the sky, presumably from the cyberbird’s visors, which were equipped with Soundwave’s spyware programs. A button was pressed and the next image appeared showing an image of Optimus Prime speaking to another mech. The image was from far away and a bit grainy but the colors of his frame were unmistakable.
“How do we know he holds the Matrix?” Motomaster asked in a snort. “Could just be any old bot.”
Megatron bared his denta. “Optimus is not just any old bot, Motormaster.” He said, tone fierce.
Shockwave stared at the image. “The evidence is clear.” He stated simply. When all the mechs in the room stared at him he continued. “The mech in question is an upgraded frame of that of Orion Pax. You can see where all the upgrades in his frame are proportional to his old frame.” Shockwave said all this as he brought up a schematic of Orion Pax, placing it next to the image Ravage provided, which she zoomed in on and upscaled with a few swipes of her paw pedes to better compare to Shockwave’s image. “Every bit of his frame scaled in size and power, except-” Shockwave pointed a digit to the image “-for the chest compartment. That is nearly double the size it should be. Clearly expanded to hold the Matrix.” Ravage smiled at him, glad he had brought useful analysis to her and her sibling’s spy work.
“If we are quite finished confirming what could have already been assumed.” Megatron stated, agitation tainting his tone.
“Certainly, Megatron.” Before Shockwave could sit, Megatron’s servo slammed the table, startling the few mechs in the room who dared to not pay attention. Shockwave’s audial fins dipped.
“Shockwave, you will address me as Lord.” Megatron said darkly. “Or any other royal equivalent you so desire.” Megatron’s optics danced with fire.
Shockwave stood still for a moment. The optics of all other mech’s in the room were on him. He hated this feeling. The feeling of being scrutinized. The feeling of suffocation. His plating itched. The others tore him apart with their optics. It was truly in these moments he felt as alien as he looked with his one-eyed helm, his prominent audials, his single servo and his gun cannon arm grafted onto him. But it seemed worse, so much worse, to commit simple faux pas. Those are really what risked his safety and his security. The others could sympathize with a mech that looked like a freak but if he behaved outside their acceptable rules, he would be cast out without a second glance, this he knew. Glancing at Soundwave and his sons he knew he couldn’t allow that.
“Of course, Lord Megatron.” Shockwave said with a short bow. “M-my liege."
“Carry on Ravage.” Megatron said simply.
Ravage did so, with only a brief glance at Shockwave. Shockwave huffed quietly, encouraging her to continue.
“We have managed to ID most of the mechs at the Autobot base.” Ravage swiped the image again. A similar image as before but with the mech Optimus was talking to turned around, came up. A grainy, but zoomed in and upscaled portrait of his face sat overtop the image. “Prowl: Optimus’ Second in Command and former police enforcer.” Another grainy image, another upscaled portrait. This one featured a mech with a blue visor but no mask and a considerably sized chest compartment “Jazz: Third in Command and Security Specialist.” This continued with more images and more upscaled portraits. An image of white and red frame who clearly held a grumpy expression even from the pixelated image. “Ratchet: The Autobot’s Medic.” An image of a small, young looking, yellow bot. “Bumblebee: The Autobot Scout.” An image of a mech with green and red accents wearing a mask with fins extending out of his faceplate. “Wheeljack: The Autobot Scientist and Inventor.” An image of a red plated mech. “And finally, Ironhide: The Autobot Muscle, for lack of any other title.” Ravage ended her slideshow, closing the holo screen and returning the lights to normal.
“A role call is all well and good,” said Deadlock, polishing his pistols, “but is useless if we don’t know what the Autobots want.”
Ravage hissed. “I don’t see you out there, gathering intelligence.”
Deadlock’s optics looked wild, “Just let me out there, beast-former, I’ll show you intelligence,” he said pointing his pistol at Ravage. Ravage bore her fangs. Shockwave froze, sitting still in his seat beside where she stood on the table.
“Stand down, Deadlock.” Megatron said fiercely. Deadlock glanced his optics at Megatron, smiled a wide grin, and twirled his pistol in his servo dramatically before holstering it. Shockwave managed to take an intake of air.
“He does bring up a good point though, what do the Autobots want?” Megatron mused, optical ridges down in an angry mutterance.
Soundwave spoke, not moving from his chair, as to not jostle the sleeping twins. “The only thing between here and Kaon are the badlands.” Ravage pulled up a holomap for him, scrolling through satellite images of empty, desolate desert terrain.
“It must be the land they are after,” Dreadwing commented. “They may wish to cut us off from Kaon,” continued Skyquake. Skyquake stood to zoom out the holomap a bit, showing the regions of Kaon, the badlands, and Tyrest. “They may wish to take the badlands and try to corner us here, in the mountains.” Dreadwing said, digits placed on his chin as he scrutinized the holomap. “While the mountains provide us protection, they would also block escape if the Autobots wish to seize this base.”
Shockwave considered. “The badlands have also traditionally been a landscape for Hotspot Forgings. The Autobots may be under orders from the Senate to keep the area protected so they would have access to newly forged bots as they emerge.”
Everyone was quiet to that possible revelation. A Forging Hotspot had not been seen on the surface of Primus for deca-vorns. Though the mechanics of how exactly a Forging Hotspot came to be wasn’t exactly clear, many thought it was the divine will of the so-called living spirit of the planet itself, Primus, who created them. Bots created through these Forgings would emerge fully formed as adult mechs, different from those created by the union of two mechs and born through carriage. Carriages were rare, but were becoming more popular as Hotspots were becoming less and less frequent and less and less mechs were becoming Forged to drive Cybertron forward. Shockwave wasn’t one to believe in an all powerful creator living in the Planet that had a hand in creating every single forged mech, but studying the subject had been very taboo and considered reprehensible by the religious sector of the population, even when he did have the social standing of a senator. Perhaps if another Hotspot emerged…
Megatron’s servo curled into a fist. “If it is the land they want, then they can’t have it.” He sat upright, turning to Soundwave. “Deploy your cassettes, survey the land, start building outposts at once. The rest of you,” He turned back to the mechs at the table, “Prepare your stations, ready your troops, stand at a moment’s notice for battle. Dismissed.”
The mechs all milled about for a bit, making their way out of the war room. Starscream grabbed his trine mates and stomped out of the room, first to leave. Shockwave rubbed Ravage’s ears. “You did well.” Ravage gleamed at him with her optics. The twins began to fuss, waking from their nap. Shockwave walked to Soundwave’s side and took them both from his arms, settling them before wailing could begin. By then most of the mechs were gone and Shockwave looked to Soundwave to leave as well. Soundwave pushed Shockwave lightly from the back, whispering into his audial, “I will meet you in the habsuite later.” Shockwave looked back to see Soundwave approaching Megatron. He left the room then, twins and Ravage in tow.
……………….
Megatron smiled at Soundwave as he approached. “It was a successful first meeting, don’t you think, Soundwave?” When Soundwave didn’t respond, his smile dropped. He put a servo to Soundwave’s shoulder pad.
“What troubles you, my friend?” Megatron asked, searching Soundwave’s visor.
“Are we friends?” Soundwave asked abruptly.
Megatron blinked. “Yes, of cour-”
“Friends? Or subordinates to a King?” Soundwave’s visor light was pointed and narrow.
Megatron swallowed. “Soundwave-”
“You have them call you Lord? Are we to bow down to you? Serve you without question or judgement? We have just escaped being slaves to our masters in the Pits and you ask us to put you on a pedestal?” Soundwave seethed, every question getting louder, getting thicker with anger, swirling with accusation. “These are not the principles the coalition was founded on!” Soundwave said gravely, jabbing a digit into Megatron’s shoulder.
Megatron’s optics flared. “And we are not a coalition anymore, are we!? We are at war! I must project strength! To the Senate, to the Autobots, and yes, especially to my own men! There can be no weakness, Soundwave!”
Soundwave stepped back, stunned at Megatron’s proclamation. His processor chugged as he fought through his cloud of anger to make a counter argument. “War does not mean-”
“Soundwave, I appreciate you are an idealist. I appreciate that more than you know. But only I have the vision to do what needs to be done. I created the Decepticons. I killed the Prime. I will destroy the Senate. I will build a free Cybertron. You have my word.” Megatron clasped his servo to Soundwave’s. The optics of his friend grasped on his visor, pleading with him desperately. Soundwave huffed, wavering.
“I will not get there if I am torn apart by my own scheming underlings. You think I have not seen what Starscream has been up to? Only I have the strength to do this, Soundwave, please.” Megatron turned away, reaching into a subspace compartment. When he turned around he had a datapad in his hand. “My new political opus, a biography and a manifesto.”
Soundwave took the datapad carefully in his hands. He knew what a precious gift Megatron’s writing was. He nodded once at Megatron. Megatron visibly relaxed.
“Soundwave: did not think you saw Starscream’s scheming.” Soundwave said with a glint of humor in his voice.
“I’d have to be a bolt head not to see what that little troublemaker was doing.” Megatron said, smiling.
“Megatron: a bit of a bolthead sometimes.”
Megatron laughed, big and loud.
……………….
Later that evening, in the quiet of the habsuite, after the twins had been put to sleep, and his family slipped into recharge, Soundwave onlined the datapad Megatron had given him. At the very top, in bold lettering, the title read: Peace through Tyranny.