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Soundwave has always been terrifyingly competent in ways unmatchable by anyone else Megatron’s ever met. But it has been a long time since he’s been a warrior and Megatron does not know why he’s ever let himself forget.
The clash of metal on metal echoes loudly off the Nemesis’ halls. A sword shines in the low light as it comes down and Soundwave blocks it with his arm, twisting until the sword catches and grabbing the hilt of the sword with his servo. The grate of metal against metal is louder than a clash of thunder. Megatron would charge in to assist were he not so enamored.
It has been a long time since he’s seen Soundwave fight.
Soundwave tugs the sword from the mech’s grip. The pirate yelps in surprise, stumbling forward. In the next moment, Soundwave has him trapped. The mech is immobile, wrapped in Soundwave’s cables. Only one is free and it hold the sword against the mech’s neck as he dangles off the ground.
“Who are you?” Soundwave asks in Starscream’s voice as he often does. Starscream speaks often and Megatron thinks he finds comfort in the familiarity of it.
“No one,” the pirate bites, because even trapped he is loyal. Or, maybe, he fears his captain more than he fears Soundwave. A foolish sentiment. “I’m not going to tell you anything.”
Soundwave tilts his helm to the side. Then he looks at Megatron in query. Megatron isn’t quite sure what he’d like him to say. He’s never been the kind of intelligent that Soundwave is and, frankly, it’s never bothered him. He trusts Soundwave as far as he can—could—throw Ravage.
“Let him go. The Vehicons can take him to the brig,” Megatron says. “I doubt he knows anything… and I remembered how much I enjoyed sparring with you.”
Soundwave drops the mech, but keeps the sword, pulling it into his servo. It’s a pretty thing, glinting silver in the light. The gem the sits at its hilt glows bright green all on its own. Energon sits low on the blade from where Soundwave had grabbed it but it somehow manages to make it all the more beautiful.
“A gift,” Soundwave says, stopping at Megatron side. He holds out the sword, waiting for Megatron to accept it.
Megatron takes it, smiling a smile that is all denta. “I will use it well.”
A promise.