With a start, Soundwave finally awoke. The first thing he noticed upon reactivating was that his entire body was bound to an upright, metal gurney. The second thing he noticed was that his chest felt bare, indicating that Laserbeak was gone.
This boded very poorly.
"Well, he's up now," a familiar, female voice suddenly spoke to his left, prompting him to turn his visored head in its direction. He made out two shapes as his vision adjusted to the bright, white light of room he was in, and upon finally making them out, he was forced to keep himself from trying to shake himself about in what he knew would be a vain effort in breaking from his bonds.
It was a pair of old enemies. Autobots. And not just any Autobots. The first one he recognized was Arcee; a scout he met many times before. The other he quickly saw was Ratchet; an aged medic that he was more than acquainted with from past exploits.
Soundwave's long, skinny limbs briefly struggled with his restraints, but to no avail. Stopping, he found the only action he could truly do was look at the Autobots standing next to him. The last thing the Decepticon could remember was running out of power in the Shadowzone; a negative dimension he had been duped into trapping himself into thanks to these two's human lackeys, and now this.
"Welcome back, Soundwave," Ratchet began after coughing into his servo. "The first thing I would like to say is that the war between Autobots and Decepticons is officially over, as you probably don't know."
Soundwave was silent.
"Listen, Soundwave, the war is over," the medic spoke again, a dozen seconds later. "Your lord, Megatron, has renounced the ways of the Decepticons and exiled himself. Cybertron is at peace. It's been that way for almost a year now."
The Decepticon continued to refrain from replying, but in his head he felt a tang of panic shock through his mind, before ultimately coming to the slightly more comforting conclusion that the Autobot was lying.
"We rescued you from the Shadowzone and awoke you for a special reason. That reason is, well... why don't you tell him, Arcee. It was your idea."
The fem beside him sighed, lifting a data pad in one of her black-tinted hands, and reading over its contents detailing what Soundwave presumed was about him. "Soundwave, we normally would have repaired you and sent you away to a high-security prison, but looking into your history, I've seen that you have no recorded war crimes to speak of, or incriminating evidence telling us anything that would be worth keeping you confined for; save for multiple accounts of spying. But, due to the set of rules following the amnesty act, that wouldn't amass for more than a few orbital cycles of jail time."
Soundwave tilted his head at her words. Arcee's expression tensed up slightly as she began to make her point. "Instead of sending you off to a cell, however, I have devised a plan that includes your full cooperation. The newly-reformed senate of Cybertron has granted me permission to use your skills in my efforts to find any criminals or former Decepticons that have held out until now, and threaten to unhinge the restored peace. In return for your services, you will be allowed an official pardon when I find your uses are at an end."
Arcee's bright, blue eyes looked at the pitch-black visor covering Soundwave's face, and though she could not see it, she could feel that he was thinking over what she had said with a disagreeing mind.
"Do you accept these terms, Soundwave?" she asked, placing a servo onto her hip as Ratchet watched on from where he stood, arms folded over his wide, red-and-white chest. A feeling of pure, burning rage at having this happen to him coursed through Soundwave's mind like a fire, but the utterly unexpressed emotion was quickly doused by a few droplets of pragmatism. Looking back at Arcee and Ratchet, Soundwave finally gave his answer.
He nodded.
It was a single up-and-down movement of the head, and it was almost painfully slow, but what it meant fully conveyed the message to both of the Autobots present.
"Very well, Soundwave. Arcee will fill you in on how things will run between the two of you for now," Ratchet spoke to the Decepticon, before turning to his ally. "You're sure you have him?"
The two-wheeler nodded her blue-and-silver head. "Yes. You may leave now, if you'd like. I can take it from here."
"Alright then," the aged doctor sighed, taking out a scanning device and checking over their prisoner a final time. "He has a clean bill of health. He's all yours."
With a final, confident glance, Ratchet turned about and exited the room, his metal feet vividly clanging on the ground as he left, leaving just Arcee and her charge alone in the medical room together. She stared at Soundwave with open optics, her brow lowered into a semi-glare. The expression she gave him conveyed the same thought he himself was currently experiencing.
This entire matter was going to be nothing but interesting.