A.N.: another one shot I wrote during study hall today--I like doing short little tidbits like this. I really wish they made Transformers: Animated longer than it was...well, anyway, enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: Copyright to Hasbro, etc. None of the characters are mine.
It was amazing to see how easily the Autobots trusted a familiar face. There wasn't a tinge of animosity or suspicion within my ranks; even the highest officers like Ultra Magnus and the Council didn't think I could possibly be anything but Longarm Prime, Space Bridge Network overseer. For some reason, I found that to be humorous. Such fools, they were, to believe anything with their optics when the battle they were fighting on other planets was really right here, the bot right next to them.
Undoubtedly, my assignment was incredibly risky. Primus only knows how close I've been to being discovered or found to be behaving suspiciously. I've been at this for over fifty stellar cycles, even as the other Decepticons claim Megatron's death to be certain, I've remained nothing but faithful to my leader. As for the appointed leader Starscream, I don't report anything to him. Knowing his thirst for action rather than strategy, he would not utilize any information I have to offer anyway.
"Hello, Longarm Prime's office, please hold. Yes, Longarm is in right now but he's asked to not take any calls. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir. Yes, Longarm Prime's office, this is Cliffjumper speaking…" Cliffjumper worked endlessly at the small station down the hall from me. Day in and day out, my Autobot life was focused on managing the Space Bridge Network—I was the most dedicated officer in service.
But they couldn't possibly fathom what I operated beyond the Space Bridges. Fools, the lot of them. It was slightly disappointing how simple it was to ascend the ladder of authority in Autobot society—no wonder Lord Megatron claimed their ways to be faulty and useless.
"Hey, Longarm, I've gotta get some packages delivered. You need anything while I'm out?" Cliffjumper asked casually. He and I had developed quite the friendship since we met.
I peered from the doorway of his office, abusing my ability to stretch so I didn't have to leave my station, and nodded. "Yes, some hot oil and a few energon cubes please. I'm pretty tired."
"All right." Cliffjumper turned and headed towards the door, only stopping to wait for the large sheet of metal to slide away and allow him through. "I'll be back in a couple nanoclicks. Don't take any calls while I'm out."
"Of course." In reality, I despised Cliffjumper. He was an Autobot, my enemy, and pretending to be on such good terms with him made me want to rip my own servos apart—still, I inhibited those desires for the good of my mission. I didn't come so far to allow myself to fall now. Long after he left, I assumed my natural form with my original colors—my real identity, the one I embraced, Shockwave.
I made sure there was no one in the office, nobody who could see me for who I really was, and opened up a private transmission frequency that only one other bot in the entire galaxy knew to pick up. "Lord Megatron," I called, and no doubt my words were lost into garbled unrecognizable speech.
Shockwave reporting. I'm uncertain as to whether or not you are receiving this frequency, but I remain by your side, my Liege. I await further orders and will resume my duty until told otherwise by you." I did this often, even though I was never met with a response. Perhaps he could not reply to me, but knew I was still on Cybertron as his only comrade.
"Shockwave."
The voice startled me. I hadn't heard it in so long that it almost sounded foreign to me, unrecognizable to my own processors. On the monitor came a familiar face with an even more familiar scowl, red optics gleaming.
"My allegiance is to you solely, mighty Lord Megatron." I replied fervently. If there was one thing that Megatron enjoyed, it was the reassurance that his subjects were unquestioningly faithful to him.
"So nice to know you're still online. I was concerned." Megatron said in that cold, impassive voice. He had no capabilities for concern, so I knew better than to think he was being serious. "You are still under the assignment as intelligence officer on Cybertron, are you not?"
"Yes, sir, I am." I answered.
"Good. And the Autobots insects?"
"Our forces are stretching the Autobots as thin as they'll go. As far as I'm aware, we've been extremely successful in overthrowing smaller, less occupied stations on nearby planets in the Alpha Centauri system. It's only a matter of time before we can plan an attack on Cybertron from the inside."
"Excellent job, my double agent. Soon I will have my own Space Bridge here on this blasted planet, and your usefulness will come into play." He turned his head away from me toward a smaller green containment chamber holding the oddest-looking creature I'd ever seen, smaller than any protoform. And on top of all that, it was organic. Such things were reviled, even mythical, here on Cybertron. "I trust Professor Sumdac will oblige to helping us make that dream a reality."
The small organic creature did not seem too keen on the idea. Without a doubt in my processor, that Professor Sumdac was not working alongside my leader of his own free will.
"I heard that you were killed trying to retrieve the All-Spark from an Autobot cargo ship. Are you all right?" I tried my best not to sound worried, for that showed weakness, but my vocalizers betrayed me.
"I have disposed of the cause of my incident, but I assure you I am very much alive. Starscream's treachery will no longer be an issue." Megatron said curtly.
"Of course, Starscream." I said softly. Somehow, I wasn't surprised.
"Report to me if anything of particular interest happens."
"Yes, my liege…"
I heard the door open down the hall, "Hey, I'm back sooner than I thought."
Without a proper farewell, I ended the transmission and changed back to Longarm Prime as I turned in my seat to my station. Cliffjumper came in, hands full, and sighed exasperatedly, "Well, I got what you asked." He set down the refreshments next to me, but I didn't shift from what I was typing on the console interface nor did I thank him.
"Are you okay? You're acting a little weird."
He didn't know the half of it. I fought back a smirk, my optics slightly lifting from the screen where I read over what I wrote. With a controlled tone, I replied, "Yes, I'm fine."