Brief AN: I decided to share this story despite being horribly stuck with it. Perhaps I will get some helpful comments that will help break the writer's block. This has been lying around for almost an year now, I'm tired of looking at it wistfully while browsing through my files. This is un-betaed - esama was very kind to look it through quickly for the most horrible errors, but she can't offer me any insight with TF stuff as she's not into the fandom. I hope you can still enjoy this.
Tired of Using Technology
Hips swaying. Wings twitching. Cacophonic perfection dancing in the datastream flashing across his screen. Bending – grovelling in dirt unwashable by anyone else – but never breaking. Born out of pure persistance and lust to antagonize that seemed to seep out of every seam on his body, the observer thought sometimes. He could find nothing like it in his data-archives. It was a wondrous act. Only he could soar to the stars from the deepest crevice of the Pit, and laugh at the face of anyone - mere seconds after being at their mercy no less.
Truly there had never been – nor would there ever be – anything like Starscream.
The warship Nemesis never slept, the giant ploughed the sky endlessly, engines rumbling gravely. Her keeper however was not so inexhaustible. Once in a while even the most industrious mech aboard would silently leave his station, retreating into isolation; to darkness – and to Him. He was always there, grinning, scheming. He needed surveillance. But in the shadows there was a Need. The recordings did the seeker no justice. The fire of the mercurial Vosian couldn't be captured in them. Still he watched his memory flow: Cocky tilt of the head, optics burning with scorn, clawed servos clenching in fury. It all blended into a mesmerising black hole. It had been countless orns, and he still watched.
An older file passed in the stream. Ah, yes – he remembered how the now raw metal frame was once complemented with white and turquoise. Many had taken him for a mere exotic thing before they had their downfall devised by the volatile then-scientist. Plotting behind Megatron's back had raised his skills to an nigh unmatchable level. The Starscream now was deadlier than ever. Vindictive and temperamental to the extremes. Had he more affiliates and thorough insight he might had succeeded. But he was proud, very much alone, tied down, and filled with dangerous malignance. 'It's Starscream versus the whole slagging universe!',a recording of Breakdown's voice was repeated.
Soundwave could have remained in reflection for hours, in curious desire, but he had duties to perform, and it was time to fall into long-awaited recharge. Swiftly he archived his files, longingly looking at the sensual sleek seeker build. How tired he was, of images and recordings. His life was little else on the warship now. Indeed, he was not a drone, not as unfeeling as other mechs might have imagined, but his devotion bound him to duty, although – terrifyingly enough to himself – it was wavering. He quickly banned the unspeakable doubt from his mind. It was easier than banishing Starscream and his seductive body. He was tempted to touch. Perhaps... it was time to start a new project.
When Soundwave awoke again he was pleased to find his mind silent, unoccupied by unsorted data and all to himself. Clear and ready for the strain of the next shift, and for a more personal endeavour, he left his quarters. Even without accessing the command centre's surveillance feed he could tell who were present. The Commander's unmistakable ranting echoed in the hallway, and unless he was having a monologue he was accompanied by Knock Out who had the honour of hearing his latest set of complaints.
" - unbelieveable stupidity!" the seeker's wings were strung tense as he spat the words, yet unaware of the communications officer's precence. "I'm going to say exactly what I think of this... 'strategy', and-"
"Uhm, herr kommandant..." Knock Out cleared his vocalizer.
"- and... attempt to present a more effective plan for our Glorious Leader's consideration..." Starscream drawled, flexing sharp clawed fingers purposefully, glancing to where Soundwave stood. It was always delightful to see how the jet would save himself this time.
"I think our...briefing has been concluded, doctor." said he, arms folding gracefully behind his back, while he walked around the stoic mech. "Up and running again... Good to see you, Soundwave." Smirk tugged the corners of the commander's mouth. Had Knock Out or anyone else in the room been looking at Starscream when Soundwave relayed his gesture of response to him, they would have been greatly amused by the flier's astonished expression.
The Third in Command was seemingly unaffected and progressed to a glowing monitor, immersing himself into the datafeed. Starscream, when able to move again after his processor unfroze, cast more than one strange look at the soundless mech as he left the command centre. He had the moment stored in his memory files, but still he could not quite process it... Had Soundwave actually just given him 'thumbs-up'?
Operation Starscreamhad been put into action, and was so far proceeding according to plan, which was not overly eleborate. Soundwave was pleased, and continued his work. From his knowledge of Starscream's character he knew that the seeker would be over analyzing his gesture in no-time and responding to it in some brazen manner after thinking himself into a dead-end. He would be suffering while trying to decipher the meaning and motives behind the seeminly random gesture. Despite being aware of a seeker's incredibly fast thought process he had not expected him to come to his breaking point quite as speedily as he did. Perhaps there had been a miscalculation, and his stress levels had already been high.
Immediately when there was a lonely breathless hallway he observed that he had a pair of burning agitated optics upon him.
"You... You! What's the meaning of this!?" The beautiful liar was now scowling at him with contempt, and a single claw pressed against his shadowy chassis.
"'What's the meaning of this!?'" the sound of his own voice tore a growl from the seeker. Clenching his servos he paced in frustration, muttering to himself as he was prone to do, beginning to lose the little self-control he had. Red streaked with rage was staring right at him. Then there was uncertainty.
"I'm not even doing anything!" he protested despairingly, more sincerely than he had in a long period of time.
Even if Soundwave would have actively practiced the art of oratorylolcheckdiswurd he wouldn't have had to say anything, as Starscream quickly proceeded to argue with himself about all possible plots and conspiracies. This gave the communications officer time to formulate a plan. Baiting the seeker to engage him had been his intention, but he had not given this much time for his error mariginal and had counted on the seeker to take more than he had to seethe in private, giving the other mech more time to analyze his mood and other variables in the meantime. Now that Starscream was right in front of him, with all his capricious charm, he was not sure as to what to do. At least the conversation as he has previously noted was easy, as Starscream tended to all the talking, as usual. Deciding on a course of action, Soundwave approached him with quiet determination.
"Shouldn't you be checking the weapons systems?" The Vosian flier countered his movement. "Don't tell me you're messing up your precious routine because of silly old me, I'd be mortified to keep you from your work. Or am I your new assignment?" Starscream's optics narrowed, word by word, step by step. Violent bitterness reflected from inky shroud.
"Do I have a chain around my neck?" he spat to the blackness, almost touching."How very appropriate...warden." sang the seeker. He knew, then. It was hardly surprising for little had been done to conceal it, but most did not care to find out. Softly he circled to the other mech's side, taking in tensing delicate wings and finely sculpted form, a living thing with spark pulsing within it's chassis, not a visual in his systems. His sensors picked up the other's high temperature. Suspicious optics followed him.
Starscream had many faces, but he had to say – as becoming as the glow of triumph and predatory grins were on him – that he liked him most when he was bared in defeat, helpless, vulnerable. And so he would be... He extended a blade-like arm, servo reaching to gently caress a haughty wing's underside. Immediate rejection, enraged embarrasment or sly seductive response had been all calculated as possible outcomes... but no outburst came forth, the sea that ought to be consuming all in brutal waves of emotions was unnaturally silent. Soundwave was taken aback as wings snapped away from reach and folded distrustfully flat against the mech's backstrut.
Alert stare bored into him. Eyes wide and burning bright. Never had there been such stillness in the seeker before. Subtle hissing rose from the Vosian's chassis, and the other flier, heeding the messages, withdrawed. With a soft whirr the dark mech departed, while the other watched him, until spreading his wings from the abnormal position and going on his own way. Soundwave felt his sensors tingle in thrill. It didn't matter to him if it had been as a result from pure shock, but while he had been given a warning, the striking fact was that he had not been rejected.