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It was well past midnight, and the bridge of the Nemesis was empty. Rain drummed on the exterior of the ship, blending with the hum of the engines in a lethargic drone. All personnel had long since left for recharge, leaving only a single figure still working, unchanged despite the lack of activity around him.
Sleep had never come easily to Soundwave. Even in his gladiator days, fighting for his life on a daily basis, rest was something he did not often care for. There was always work to do, ways to improve, and a never-ending stream of information. So he continued working, his visor fixed on the interface before him, even as Laserbeak himself droned low, half-asleep upon his master’s chest.
The silent Decepticon did not turn as the door opened behind him. But he almost paused upon hearing a distinctive set of heavy footsteps, a gait he knew better than any other. Not ceasing his work, Soundwave nevertheless inclined his head to observe the massive figure from the corner of his visor. It was strange seeing him active again, and the surveillance chief found it difficult to shake the stress of seeing his comatose form in the medical bay, with no indication that he would ever wake. Even now, part of him wondered if Kaon’s greatest gladiator had not joined with the Allspark after all, and what walked the Nemesis now was merely an illusion.
Megatron gazed out the viewport into the night-dark sky, heavy clouds illuminated on occasion by a distant flicker of lightning. Moments of peace and quiet were few and far between these days, and though the industrious side of him loathed such trivial respites, he knew it was good to take a moment, particularly after the chaos of the past few days.
Light footsteps sounded behind him. Megatron half-turned, though he knew already who stood at his back. “What is it, Soundwave?”
The other bot gave no reply. Megatron arched an eyebrow, sensing the shift in demeanor. Was he…hesitating? Soundwave?
The warlord turned about fully to face his surveillance chief and saw the slender bot had one servo half raised, as though he had started to reach out, but thought better of it. “What is troubling you, Soundwave?”
The dark Decepticon again made no response. He lifted a slender servo and, after a moment’s uncertainty, rested spidery digits upon the warlord’s spark chamber, where the sigil of the Decepticons was emblazoned.
Megatron was puzzled by this uncharacteristic display. Soundwave had never been one for physical contact, rarely engaging in such outside of the gladiatorial pits. But now, the normally-stoic spy chief was behaving as though Megatron would…disappear.
Ah. So that was it.
“I assure you, Soundwave,” Megatron said, allowing his tone a softness none but the one before him knew to detect, “despite the recent…complications, I am quite present, and in full command of my processes. Despite what Starscream likes to suggest when he thinks I cannot hear him.”
Soundwave gave the tiniest tilt of his head. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Then he reached up, taking the side of Megatron’s faceplate in spindly digits. It was true, he finally allowed himself to believe. His oldest friend was alive and standing before him, solid and real.
A metallic shudder passed through the bot’s slender frame, that of enormous stress finally being shed. Then he swayed slightly, recalling how long it had been since he had entered recharge. Weariness weighed upon him like a ton of bricks.
“Get some rest, dear Soundwave.” Megatron clasped the other bot’s shoulder. “You are my brother, my most trusted ally, and I value your service more than any other. But now, I am ordering you to cease operations.”
Soundwave seemed reluctant to halt productivity, but one look at Megatron’s fierce glare told him there would be no arguing. Shoulders relaxing in resignation, he offered forth his servo in a gesture the two had not shared since the pits of Kaon, echoing back the warlord’s words at him: “You are my brother—”
He finished with his own voice, taken from before his vow, “—Megatron.”
Megatron grasped the other bot’s arm, feeling the strength in his grip, despite his wiry digits. Then Soundwave stepped back, all sentimentality masked once more under indifference, and turned on his heel, as stoic and graceful as ever.
Megatron allowed himself a chuckle, casting a fond look at the dark, retreating figure. “You never were one to wear your spark on your servo for long, were you, old friend?”