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Soundwave liked working the graveyard shift. In the dead of night, peaceful silence blanketed the Nemesis, and his productivity skyrocketed. In the span of half a shift, he had decoded two Autobot messages, written a report for Megatron, and designed a response for the potential threat.
He would have gone on to code the next antiviral security upgrade, but a flurry of movement on his surveillance feeds snared his attention. Abandoning his project, he turned to monitor the movement. His high definition cameras caught a familiar sleek and silver Seeker tiptoeing through the corridors of the Nemesis.
Starscream slunk into the mess hall, and Soundwave wished that he had merely woken up hungry. Disappointed, however, Soundwave watched Starscream reemerge with two energon cubes in his servos and take the familiar path to the bridge. To him.
Turning back to his unfinished line of code, Soundwave fought the urge to abandon his post as Starscream disappeared beyond the periphery of the last camera between them. Soundwave braced himself.
The door hissed open, and Starscream strutted in on his obnoxious heels. “Good morning, Soundwave,” he purred, far too lively at this hour. “I have come bearing gifts.”
Starscream’s null-rays came into view as he set a cube down on the console. Soundwave’s circuits sizzled. Any sane mech knew that liquids were to be kept far away from electrical appliances, but was Starscream any sane mech? No.
Soundwave snatched the cube and subspaced it.
“What do you WANT?” the voice of Megatron blasted through his speakers and Starscream flinched. The energon sloshed, almost spilling out of the cube and onto the console. Soundwave’s spark spasmed.
The smile dropped off Starscream’s face. “I need your help,” he said.
Slag it all to the Pit and back, Soundwave never thought he’d hear those words coming from Starscream.
Soundwave continued to stare. Silence, he found, was the best method of extracting information from a partner in conversation, not that he’d ever want to hold a proper conversation with Starscream.
The blasted Seeker took an agonisingly long sip of energon.
“Thundercracker,” he began, clearing his vocaliser, “didn’t get tickets to his Lady Gaga concert during the presale. The fool spent all his credits on–” He paused, trying to remember what exactly Thundercracker had splurged on. His engines revved angrily and the thin veil that was his composure dissolved. “For the love of Primus, I don’t know what he spent it on but now he doesn't have the credits he needs and he’s moping and sulking and dragging down the morale of all my soldiers with him! If I don’t get him these fragging tickets, Soundwave, he will destroy all of us with his incompetence! So for the love of the Decepticon cause, help me!”
Starscream’s digits curled into claws and his wings flicked sharply. A manic twitch in his right optic rendered Soundwave involuntarily speechless.
He clicked a few buttons that beeped just to make it sound like he was doing something, and ran a cursory check on Decepticon efficiency as of late. Yes, Thundercracker’s doom and gloom had not gone unnoticed, but the statistics hardly gave Starscream cause for a temper tantrum. Though, when did that ever stop him? Harder to explain was his willingness to ask for help.
A thought occurred to Soundwave. Quickly, he checked the calendar for recreational events and there it was—the anniversary of Thundercracker’s forging, one lunar cycle away.
Soundwave considered Starscream’s request. The security upgrade could wait since he was well ahead of schedule, but the question was whether or not he wanted to sacrifice his time and sanity to help Starscream.
He recalled the multiple times Ravage had disappeared for cycles, sending everyone into a frenzy, only to reappear drenched in dried energon and a glitch-mouse for each of his fellow symbiotes and Soundwave. He recalled Ravage dropping the disgustingly deactivated remains at his pedes as waves of love rolled through the symbiotic link. He recalled Starscream mentioning how he, too, shared an irreplicable bond with Thundercracker and Skywarp, and the odd sentimentality Starscream reserved only for them, like Ravage's unconventional gifts.
“Proceed,” he said.
Starscream immediately started on another rehearsed speech to convince Soundwave to help him. The list of reasons screeched to a halt in his vocaliser when his lagging processor finally caught up with reality. “You’re agreeing?” he asked. “So easily?”
Soundwave didn’t believe it either.
Starscream’s infamous grin crawled its way back onto his face. “Well then,” he clasped his servos together, “let’s get started, shall we?”
Ping!
Soundwave opened the message Starscream sent him. A torrent of information hit him like Optimus Prime in alt-mode and Soundwave staggered back in surprise. Automatically, his processor started to analyse the data.
Starscream pushed past him and shuffled to the nearest free console, leaving Soundwave to sort through the information in muted pain. He keyed a specific address into the search engine and drummed his digits as the loading circle spun.
On silent pedes, Soundwave stumbled over to look over Starscream’s rotator cuffs. The whirring of his fans betrayed his presence though, and Starscream didn’t start at the close proximity when he turned to ask, “Can you make this thing load any faster?”
More than a little irritated, Soundwave didn’t respond to such a stupid question. In the haze of his processor ache, he pulled up remote systems control on his HUD and powered down anything unnecessary, leaving only the security measures untouched. He redirected the surplus energy to the bridge. Instantly, the buffering stopped and the website’s landing page loaded up.
“Excellent. Now, plug those cables in and get to work. I’ve given you everything you need to fill in the blanks, even the absurd answers to his security questions. I’m sure you already know them, but it doesn’t hurt to have a little more information on servo, does it?”
Soundwave smothered the rising urge to slap Starscream out of an airlock. At least the pain had receded enough for him to have such thoughts.
“Et tu?” he asked in Knockout’s voice.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me, I’ll just–”
KRRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKK–
The sound of metal grating against metal obliterated Soundwave’s sensors. Static flooded his HUD. Instinctively, he dampened his audials and blindly lashed out with his cables to bat Starscream away from a second console. How a mech his size could move an object so heavy was beyond Soundwave, but what mattered was that he stopped.
Starscream mouthed something at him, indignant. Soundwave kept his audials stubbornly dampened, not entirely certain that they had recovered enough to deal with an assault from Starscream’s vocaliser. He swivelled back to the console and jammed a cable into the console’s port. Twice, in frustration, he verified that he was human before he could finally start the tedious work of filling the forms in.
Out of the corner of his optics, Soundwave saw Starscream shove another console over.
Starscream’s logic surpassed all others when it came to its degree of irrationality. For reasons entirely lost on Soundwave, he fervently believed that opening more tabs on more consoles would increase their chances of getting past the loading screen.
Soundwave wasn't foolish enough to argue. If Starscream hadn’t already realised that his plan would only worsen server speed, then he never would.
Thus, Soundwave found himself linked to several consoles while he sat on the floor which had been permanently marred to show for Starscream’s manual labour.
Starscream measured the progress of a loading bar with a ruler. Sometimes, Soundwave wondered how many datachips were left in that processor of his. Was he even in the right frame of mind to lead his armada? What was Megatron thinking when he named Starscream his second?
Soundwave’s vision blurred with the fraying of his attention.
He missed his berth.
Rebooting his optics multiple times, he grabbed the datapad closest to him and was just about to launch the coding programme when the door slid open for the second time that cycle.
Soundwave and Starscream’s helms snapped up. A flurry of excuses died on the latter’s glossa when he realised who stood at the door.
“Whz goin’ on?” Skywarp asked, rubbing fatigue from his optics as he stifled a yawn.
“What are you doing here?” Starscream hissed. He marched over and held up his servos, ready to usher his wingmate back to recharge like a sparkling.
“Someone turned the AC off and TC kept kicking me. I can’t sleep.”
Starscream shot Soundwave an accusing optic. In his defence, Soundwave retorted with Starscream’s own statement, “Can you make this thing load any faster?”
“From what planet do you come from that the AC is a worthy sacrifice? It doesn’t even take up that much power!”
Starscream would have continued berating him, Soundwave was sure, but Skywarp tugged on his wings and asked what they were doing.
“None of your business,” Starscream told him. “We’re getting tickets for TC.”
Skywarp’s optics brightened. “For his birthday? Can I help?”
Starscream gnashed his dentae and glanced to Soundwave. He offered a subtle nod.
“Fine, but not a word to TC! Do you understand me?”
“Yup!” Skywarp nodded enthusiastically and mimed zipping his lips shut. Starscream led him to a free console, powered it on and opened yet another window to re-enter all of Thundercracker’s details into the website.
Primus, what was wrong with these mecha?
For a generous period of time, the three mecha lapsed into a companionable silence. Soundwave secretly worked on the security upgrade with the stolen datapad while Starscream muttered with Skywarp, pointing at this and that on what was supposed to be blank screen save for the loading bar. Skywarp held the ruler up to it, and Soundwave hoped that they wouldn’t realise that the lack of progress was due to his coding programme. He angled his datapad away from their line of sight.
A resounding clatter shattered his concentration, followed by Starscream’s anguished cry piercing his audials.
“Why, ‘Warp, why?”
“I’m sorry,” Skywarp wailed, frantically trying to click ‘back’ on the webpage. In the process, he managed to close the entire window.
Starscream collapsed into his chair with a whimper, his servo covering his optics as he cycled air through his vents. “You had one job, ‘Warp,” he muttered.
“And what might that job be?”
Soundwave, sat smack in the middle of the storm caused by his colleagues, jolted and turned to stare at Megatron. Standing by the doorway, the warlord’s optics looked more red than usual.
Starscream didn’t move from his seat; only a loud groan indicated that he knew of Megatron’s appearance. Skywarp was the only one that bothered to execute a clumsy salute, but a salute nonetheless.
“I want to know what exactly justifies the need for such a ruckus at this hour.” Megatron lumbered into the room, eyeing the mess with disdain. Soundwave didn’t miss the rattling of his frame when his optics fell upon the scratch marks.
Soundwave volunteered an answer, “Thundercracker didn’t get tickets to his Lady Gaga concert—he’s moping and sulking and dragging down the morale of all my soldiers with him!—Soundwave—help me!—get him these fragging tickets.”
Starscream’s glare burned into the back of his helm. Snitch, it accused.
“I see.”
Megatron turned his penetrative glare on Starscream who rolled his optics. The Seeker looked away petulantly and said, “One way or another, Thundercracker will get those tickets. You should be thanking me for keeping your soldiers away from illegal human dealings.”
Megatron simmered and glared.
Soundwave attempted to retreat back into his lines of code, but the incessant beeping of the keyboard echoed through the unnaturally silent room. Unfortunately, he couldn’t disable it; he’d tried before, multiple times. In the end, he gave up and monitored the silent exchange between his warlord and the second-in-command warily.
At last, Megatron grunted and turned on his heel struts, stalking back towards the door. “Just keep it down, will you?” he said, an edge of weariness scraping through his vocaliser.
“Yes, my lord.” Starscream bowed his helm perfunctorily. “Oh, and, my lord, when Thundercracker comes asking for permission to attend the concert, you will grant it to him, won’t you? I cannot guarantee a soldier’s obedience otherwise.”
Megatron didn’t bother replying. He paused by the threshold and glanced towards the tangle of cables connected to the socket.
“You don’t need so many,” he said, and, with one brutal yank, pulled the plug on almost all of them. The cables sparked as the consoles around Soundwave went dark.
Starscream twitched and his vocaliser hummed, but no words followed. He waited until the door slid shut behind Megatron before he spoke, “I now know Megatron’s greatest weakness,” Soundwave bristled but Starscream continued, his tone light, “a disrupted recharge cycle. Beware, Soundwave, I strike at midnight when our lord is at his most agreeable.”
Soundwave forced air out of his vents and returned to work. He filed that recording into his blackmail folder.
“Is this what it takes to keep my soldiers in line?” Megatron asked Soundwave as they refuelled together two solar cycles later.
On the opposite end of the mess hall, Starscream gestured animatedly, his vocaliser tuned to a more acceptable pitch than usual. He showed Thundercracker something on his datapad. Thundercracker squealed, pedes doing a tippy-tap before he launched himself at Starscream and enveloped his wingleader in a hug that knocked them both off balance.
“The amount of effort spent on such futile engagements is illogical,” Shockwave commented as he approached them.
“Starscream—for the love of—Thundercracker,” Soundwave countered, incomprehensibly vexed by the insensitive statement even though he knew Shockwave lacked the functions to understand.
Starscream muttered something to Thundercracker and pointed in their direction. Thundercracker’s optics widened considerably as they slid over. The grin on his face stretched even further than before. He waved at them and hollered, “Thank you, Soundwave! You’re the best ‘-wave’!”
In amused acknowledgement, Soundwave nodded. Next to him, Shockwave stiffened.
The solar cycle after the concert, Thundercracker neglected to turn up for his shift.
“Where is he?” Megatron demanded while he, Soundwave and Skywarp stood atop the weather deck, watching Starscream lead the Vehicons in aerial drills.
“Knocked out with Knockout,” Skywarp replied. “He ruined his vocaliser at the concert but Knockout’s too far gone to fix him up. Can you imagine? Knockout and Breakdown were one-hundred-and-fourteenth in line on the presale! Insane.”
Megatron growled. “He has one shift off. Ensure that he returns to his duties by the next one, or his vocalisers won’t be the only thing shredded.”
Skywarp nodded impassively, optics trained forward in a blank stare. To Soundwave, however, he whispered, “You won’t let that happen, will you? I don’t think TC can recover in time.”
Unbeknownst to either of his colleagues, Soundwave inclined his helm.