A/N: I know it's terribly wrong always disappearing between chapters. I just lost inspiration for a while, but summer had encouraged me to continue on with this story. I can't make any promises because I'm a jerk and will probably break them. But finally, here is the next chapter.

Questions

Are we going to get an appearance from Senator Ratbat? Or any of the Senators anytime soon?

I have no idea. I've seen the Senators added in these types of stories, so I might consider it.

Will Soundwave ever fight Darkstrike?

Answered this chapter.


Provision- a condition or requirement in a legal document


Chapter 8

Awakening the next morning was no problem for the femme. Darkstrike was prepared for what the cycle had to throw at her. She would face any mech and endure any training and any taunting. She even swallowed the pressure of having to return to Soundwave's room later on.

That alone was much more frightening than any other task she had planned for that cycle.

It was her own choice if she wanted to return, but she felt that she would choose wrong if she'd skip out. It would make her seem like a coward.

It only seemed to matter whether that slagger cared. Soundwave. Soundwave. Soundwave. It was all she found herself thinking about. It was stupid. Darkstrike shouldn't bother obsessing over any mech at all.

If the dark-armored femme thought about him that often, it probably meant that they were encountering each other too periodically.

She sighed.

Even if they did have a lot of contact, Soundwave didn't really treat her any differently than before. There were only subtle differences. She wasn't treated as an equal, but nor was she completely treated like scrap. It was somewhere in the middle.

Now that Darkstrike had shown some potential, Soundwave at least treated her like a bot rather than a lowlife miner. It was a start, but certainly far from what her main goal was.

Also, his groping would have to stop. She had already decided this before. Darkstrike would either retaliate or try to get away before she would get pinned. The femme knew that one day those sweetly venomous touches would lead to something else, and she would be helpless, too deep in her own desires. The flier quickly stopped and dropped the subject. She blushed a deep blue.

Soundwave had already shown her she would not be worth that kind of time. For that, she was somewhat grateful. The Gladiator femme would just have to be extremely careful when around him. Especially now that she knew that not even her thoughts were safe.


Darkstrike entered the rec room earlier than usual. Her spark immediately began shifting but she quickly coughed it away. The femme made a note that she would need more armor to cover that area on her body if and when she had the currency.

Her optics darted across the room.

Although again there would be no energon, Darkstrike felt the need to seek out Magnesium.

Much to her surprise, he wasn't there. The mech, usually at the counter, was no longer available. No one seemed alerted about the irking mech's absence. Maybe she was the only one who had noticed or maybe the only one that seemed to care.

She frowned. Although the mech wasn't the best company, he wasn't what you would call scum either.

"Brightplate!"

Speaking of scum.

She closed her optics and hoped the voice would go away. She wanted Magnesium, not him. Not that Soundwave was a bad option either. Darkstrike completely disregarded the thought, knowing it did her no good.

"So, there the femme is," RocketShield said.

Darkstrike turned around and forcibly opened her optics. She remained quiet.

"I was going through my memory banks and I saw the good times we had," he casually said. Darkstrike noticed his usual group wasn't accompanying him.

"I don't remember," she replied. She attempted to keep her tone devoid of any nervousness. Her red optics looked around. Hardly any mechs paid them any mind. It wasn't uncommon for their spats to take place in the rec room. They were probably used to their verbal abuses.

"Yeah you do," RocketShield grinned.

"How do you know what I remember?" Darkstrike asked defensively, "Does it matter?"

"Not as much as you'd wish," he said, "I really enjoyed you much better then. You were much easier to grab."

"And I liked you better when you were passed out. Made it easier to tolerate your aft," she retorted.

"Look at that, the still femme has jokes," he replied.

"Yeah, well that wasn't a joke," Darkstrike said.

"Good, because it wasn't funny."

She muttered a snarky comment under her vent. However, the words didn't escape the mech.

"What was that?" RocketShield asked threateningly.

Darkstrike's optics widened in slight alarm. She responded as the mech began to advance. "Nothing worth your time."

"Exactly. You're not worth anyone's time," he poked at Darkstrike's shoulder. She was lightly pushed back because of the force. The femme glared at him.

That wasn't true. She was worth something to someone on Cybertron... Soundwave? Ha, don't lie to yourself, her processor cruelly snapped. Maybe the owners. That still wasn't comforting. The shattering thought crept up into her processor.

What if she wasn't worth anyone's time?

Her creators had discarded of her. The wrecker, her first love, had abandoned her, Magnesium only tolerated her but Soundwave...

"I am not interested what you have to say," she poked back, causing him to back up. Hopefully, she sounded convincing. Though, with her luck, RocketShield would find a rebuttal and cause her remark to backfire on her.

His scarlet optics glared at her.

"Just like no one's interested in what you say?" he mocked. Really, his insults were becoming a bit juvenile at that point. She shot him a subtle glare.

"I-I..." her optics flickered away. There weren't many things to say without sounding idiotic.

"Exactly." That smug son of glitch.

Her optics narrowed at him. She desperately searched her processor for something to say. "If I'm a 'Brightplate', what would that make you?" she blurted out. Saying anything, even if it were useless, was better than listening to his self-satisfaction.

"A superior Gladiator," he smoothly replied.

A streak of audacity began to creep its way into her demeanor. "Ha! I can list far more superior Gladiators than you."

The comment didn't seem to sit well with him. The red mech scowled. "Like who?" RocketShield dared to ask.

She gulped.

Before Darkstrike could remark again, she found the sudden urge to look away from RocketShield. Her optics only drifted slightly to the right. She found a familiar mech among the crowd of Gladiators. He was situated perfectly, right behind RocketShield.

His visor was pointed in her direction, letting her know he was watching. She cursed in her processor but accidentally said his name aloud.

"Soundwave...!"

RocketShield's smug appearance automatically dissipated into a bemused one. Darkstrike, unfortunately, let her gaze linger for a bit too long. RocketShield managed to follow it all the way to the mech her optics were on.

"Soundwave?" he questioned.


Once Megatronus had left, Soundwave had lingered in the energon room.

For one of many reasons, the main one was because he needed to indulge in his own thoughts.

Cybertronian rights were a simple thing, though it was something that was never given to bots like them. Megatronus planned to do something about it. For the moment, it seemed Megatronus shared a dream of a more efficient Cybertron. One Soundwave appreciated.

Soundwave was willing to listen to anyone with a rivaled intelligence despite that Megatronus held much more blind passion than him. He didn't approve many things about Megatronus. He was still skeptical of the mech, however, he recognized power when he saw it. It also wasn't wise becoming enemies with the highest ranker. He didn't fear the silver mech, not even for an instance. However, Soundwave he knew that an uneasy alliance was better than having another adversary.

Megatronus had initially noticed Soundwave because he fought ruthlessly. This smaller mech fought to keep his life and even went as far as challenging Megatronus'. But this wasn't anything new. It had been this way for a very long time.

So for now, Soundwave wouldn't mind Megatronus. Trust was an unnecessary word. They didn't need trust. Soundwave knew Megatronus had other plans besides using words to inspire others and shatter injustice. Though in his opinion, Megatronus was asking for too much. The mech's hopes were too high along with his expectations; the only way Cybertron would be free of it corruptness, was if the planet itself was destroyed.

Nonetheless, whatever he was planning, Soundwave was willing to assist. Full involvement wasn't worth his time just yet.

Megatronus had left once he felt that he had made his point. The larger mech had also talked about going somewhere out of the arena for business. It wasn't Soundwave's business, but he had been unintentionally been able to catch a few thoughts. Something about a clerk and datapads. That was all Soundwave was willing to prod about the subject.

The high-ranker sat quietly at the table.

His frame subtly shifted, breaking his thought. A slight movement in his spark seemed to bother him more than it should. Soundwave ignored it.

Looking up, he saw the movement of a femme. There were no femmes in these parts of the Pits, except for Darkstrike of course so he assumed it had to be her.

Her helm moved from side to side, seeming to search for someone.

Soundwave knew all about the acquaintanceship between Darkstrike and Magnesium. It seemed she managed to make a friend. Unfortunately for her, her only friend was absent that morning.

He watched her discretely.

Coming from behind Darkstrike was RocketShield. The femme captured the attention of many mechs, it seemed. Soundwave wasn't surprised; mechs wanted one thing from her. It was the reality of Kaon. It almost urged him to scar such delicate features to make her less coveted.

Though he discarded of thought. It was no good becoming more involved than he already was.

The Gladiator watched Darkstrike give RocketShield an annoyed glare.

They were having a petty argument, nothing unusual. One that consisted of Darkstrike and her inferiority. Soundwave usually reminded her. He somewhat disliked the fact that RocketShield was doing so.

He listened to their argument.

"And tell me, who's interested in what you say?" RocketShield spat. RocketShield was one to talk. He wasn't exactly in the finest caste or highest rank.

"I-I..."

How pathetic.

"Exactly."

A glare appeared on her features.

"If I'm a 'Brightplate', what would that make you?" Darkstrike questioned. So she wasn't completely useless in the argument.

"A superior Gladiator." RocketShield was an ignorant mech. There was nothing to gloat about survival. Even then, there was nothing to gloat about in RocketShield's case considering he wasn't the best of fighters.

The look in her optics reminded him why exactly Darkstrike was had been worth some of his time. Red optics narrowed up at RocketShield.

"Ha! I can list far more superior Gladiators than you," she challenged.

"Like who?" RocketShield questioned.

There seemed to be a pause. Instead of looking away like he should have done, he stared ahead, waiting for Darkstrike's optics to meet his visor. He wanted to hear who exactly she thought was more superior than RocketShield.

Her optics drifted over to him. She had caught sights of him.

"Soundwave...!"

He stood unaffected.

RocketShield turned around to look at him. "Soundwave?"

Some other Gladiators glanced at him, but his deadly silence was enough to drive their gazes away. The boisterous voices quieted down for a few kliks before she continued.

"Yes! Is he not a superior Gladiator?" Darkstrike asked. She was attempting to cover her mistake. He could tell by her colorful use of language echoing in her mind.

RocketShield looked at him and slightly narrowed his optics. Soundwave didn't move. For all others knew, this could be a sign that he couldn't care any less.

RocketShield turned back at Darkstrike only to see that she was no longer there.

Soundwave knew she had left, the femme had given him a glance before exiting through the door.


Darkstrike stood outside the door. The door. His door. Soundwave's door.

Her glossa ran over her white lips. Her venting was uneven. Optics ridges furrowed in nervousness. The femme extended a servo and gave two hard knocks.

The empty hallway intimidated the femme. She hoped no one would see her, Megatronus being the first on that list. She hoped that the first time they had encountered would also be the last. Darkstrike might have had some courage with Soundwave, but that was because she had interacted with him multiple times, Megatronus being a whole other story.

She let her thoughts ease down as she waited.

The door wouldn't open. The flier gave another knock.

She began to doubt he was in there. Training was over, any all the fights were over. There was no reason he shouldn't be in his room.

Darkstrike huffed, too stubborn to leave. I said I would come dammit, now I'm here.

She looked down at the symbols next to his door. They glowing colors caught her attention. They were almost identical to the ones on the other side of the door.

She wondered...

Taking the slip out of her subspace, Darkstrike glanced at it before typing it in. The door hissed open.

Darkstrike hesitantly walked. Her pede-steps made slight creeks. Her sensors detected the presence of another Cybertronian in the room. Her helm turned in the direction of the mech.

He was working on the drone.

The door closed behind Darkstrike.

"I apologize if I'm intruding..." she spoke a bit shakily.

She was greeted by the suffocating silence. Her spark broke its slow rhythm. Wide red optics stared at him as she awkwardly tensed up.

"Returned as promised," he stated. She vented in slight relief.

"Do you mind that I entered without your consent?" she asked.

"Only when permitted. Example: When aiding in the construction of drone," Soundwave replied. The femme slightly gained more confidence. She neared him, careful not to get too close. As she went for the datapad, her arm brushed his. This created a wild reaction in her spark.

Cautious enough not to make any sudden movements, Darkstrike backed up, hoping to remain unfazed by the small contact. Next time she would make sure to be more careful. Soundwave probably wouldn't appreciate it. What did he care about contact? He sure seemed to like it yesterday.

Darkstrike backed up and sat on his berth. The femme figured she was allowed this, it would become annoying constantly asking Soundwave for permission. He didn't seem like the type of mech to constantly respond to frivolous questions.

The femme took a deep breath and turned the datapad on.

For the first few joors, her claws had rigorously typed on the tablet. Her sole purpose for being allowed in his chambers was this drone so there was no time to slack off.

Though, the more knowledge she gained from his datapad, the more she was beginning to notice how alike this drone would be like to a minicon. The femme wasn't entirely sure if she could call it that. There were significant differences to one another. It seemed that Soundwave wanted to have some sort of connection with this drone, similar to a minicon and its master, though the datapad didn't specify. Soundwave was telepathic and perhaps it had something to do with that.

Speaking of the mech, it didn't seem like he was all that interested in conversation. Darkstrike had easily foreseen this. Straight to the point and only interested in work. There wasn't really a use for him to talk when he could apparently pluck the information himself.

Darkstrike absentmindedly wondered how the whole telepathic thing worked. It was a very valuable ability and she had decided to keep quiet about it. Not that anybody would have believed the incredulous idea anyways. She didn't entirely believe it herself.

Soundwave also wouldn't approve of her opening her big mouth.

Returning to her previous task, Darkstrike decided to finish up on the page she was on. She took her time, careful not to miss any mistakes. Seeing as it was as close to perfection, the femme decided to take a peak at Soundwave.

Darkstrike looked up and saw Soundwave adjust more pieces. They weren't exactly fitting perfectly. He seemed to recognize this, but he didn't express any outward emotions.

"Why don't you replace those parts with new ones so that you can stabilize the drone?" she suggested.

Soundwave looked at her, seeing as she broke their silence. "Suggestion is valid. Resources: Unavailable," he said.

Darkstrike looked down. She furrowed her optic ridges while trying to think of a rebuttal.

"I can get them," she blurted. The mech stared at her in silence. It was a type of quiet that made Darkstrike think he was judging her. It chilled her but it was a reminder her that shielding her thoughts was necessary.

"Currency—"

"Unnecessary! I don't need them! I can get the pieces you need without them."

He didn't say anything else. Either because he didn't think he needed to, or it wasn't worth his time, Darkstrike didn't know. Though, she had a feeling it was because he didn't trust her to come through with her promise.

Soundwave handed her a list.

"Acquire what is possible," he said. She nodded and made a move to leave. The femme accidentally crashed into the door, forgetting that she needed to type in the password before exiting.

Her faceplates glowed blue in a blush. She quickly typed it in. Darkstrike sheepishly coughed before scurrying outside. Soundwave only stared for a short while longer.

Darkstrike sighed in relief. That wasn't the best way to show her intelligence. She was already on a bad streak.

The femme passed the halls, hurrying as fast as she could. She knew that there was a shop on the outskirts of the arena where mech sold various items to Gladiators. Hopefully, it was there today, because the unlike them, the mech who sold parts was allowed to leave the arena. He was only allowed in for business purposes.

When she finally arrived, the door swished open. When the flier stepped in, causing some of the loitering Gladiators to turn to her direction.

She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, or how she should take it. The femme decided to take it as a warning. Darkstrike put her guard up.

She entered the line. The femme crossed her arms and waited patiently, ignoring any stares she received. At least there weren't many mechs: five at the most. After a few kliks, the attention shifted away from her.

After a few more moments of advancing, Darkstrike felt a servo touch her wings. The flier angrily turned around. A pair of Gladiators chuckled at her. One was short and one was very large.

"You have wings," the large one chuckled, "I didn't know that."

"Are you a seeker?" the smaller one questioned. She turned blue with embarrassment and anger. This caused both of them to laugh with amusement.

"I am not a seeker!" she growled. The confusion always succeeded in irritating her.

"Of course not," the large one said.

"But if you ever want to take a ride with one, just say the words..." the smaller one leered.

"Drixco! Battlesmash! Leave the femme alone and get these mechs the parts they need."

They both mumbled to each other before escorting the other mechs. The area soon emptied.

"Come on, Darling, I'd like to finish this up today," the mech said, "I've got places to be and things to receive."

Darkstrike warily approached the mech. He seemed harmless enough, nothing that suggested he was a Gladiator. The mech had unique purple optics and a shiny appearance. The mech wore a charismatic smile and he looked at her with interest. He looked up and down as if scanning her appearance.

"What'll it be?"

"What exactly do you have?" Darkstrike asked skeptically.

"You could say I have a lot," he replied, "I pride myself in having things others don't."

"But you don't have everything," she clarified.

"Well, I don't have a femme," he suggested.

Her red optics widened.

He laughed halfheartedly. "I'm kidding. Pleasure bots are found in other parts of Kaon, which I can hook any friend of yours up if you'd like?"

She looked at him in a disturbed manner.

"I'm alright," Darkstrike mumbled. She took out the list from her subspace. There were only two things on it. She frowned. Soundwave has a lot of faith in me, doesn't he? She placed the list back in her subspace.

"Do you have the remains of any drones?" she asked.

"You plannin' on building one?"

"Just some business."

"I see. If there's anything I know better, it's business," he reached into his subspace and grabbed a servo-full of objects. What exactly did he keep in there? Forgetting the question, Darkstrike's optics drifted at what he had to offer.

There were multiple spare parts. They all looked like decent parts. It didn't look like scrap, she'd give him that.

"Here, I consider myself a reasonable mech, especially to femmes. I'll give this to you for... 40 credits, how's that sound?"

"Your generosity just reaches me so profoundly," she sarcastically remarked.

"Fine then, Miss Ungrateful. You list a price. I'll decide whether it's reasonable or not."

"How about a bargain?" Darkstrike suggested.

"A bargain? I'm somewhat interested," he said, "But tell me, how exactly will this benefit me?" His fingers motioned to himself.

"You'll obviously be getting something in return for these parts."

"So a trade?" he specified.

"Energon coins is something you'll always get. Why don't I offer something else?" Darkstrike suggested. He motioned her to continue. "I'll give you... a blade from the city of Kalis and free match to watch in the Gladiatorial rings."

He chuckled. "Oh really? I expect you to deliver these promises you're making," the mech said, "I know exactly how you Gladiators work."

"So you know I'm a Gladiator," she inferred.

"Of course. I don't only sell items, but information too."

She took out the blade and handed it to him. The origin of the blade had something to do with her least favorite mech.

The purple-optic mech inspected it. "I see it already has an engraving on it. "R.S?" he questioned.

Darkstrike shrugged half-heartedly.

"Y'know, I like you," he gave a laugh, "Alright, so that's one part of the deal. How do I know you'll return for the other?"

Darkstrike leaned on his counter, nearing his faceplates as her optic lids lowered slightly. He stood there, surprise flashing over his faceplates. "Because you sell the best here, don't you?" she whispered to him. Her white lips curled into a smile.

"Damn right I do," he chuckled. He neared her even more and had the audacity to press his lips carefully to her cheek. "And you better hope you return because I have my ways."

The flier fought the strong urge to jump back in embarrassment.

When the moment seemed right, she stepped back. The femme disguised her blue blush as casual.

"Name's Swindle," he said. She collected the parts, storing them in her subspace.

"Darkstrike," she replied.


Soundwave heard the sound of his door open. He wasn't alarmed. He had been expecting Darkstrike's arrival.

It wasn't until the femme approached him that he chose to acknowledge her.

He could sense her satisfaction.

She carefully revealed all of the parts she had retrieved, one by one taking them out of her subspace. Soundwave didn't say anything. The only sign that showed he was paying attention was the slight tilt of his visor.

The femme had actually returned with more parts. He had only asked for, at most, only two. Frankly, he hadn't really expected her to return with anything.

Though a very small fraction of him was impressed, he was skeptical as well. It made him question where exactly Darkstrike had gone to receive these.

"The price? Did you require coins?" he questioned.

"I didn't need any," she replied.

"Query: Where were pieces acquired?" Soundwave questioned.

"I got them from a mech named Swindle," Darkstrike replied.

There was the answer to his question.

Soundwave knew exactly who the mech was. Swindle was a notorious dealer who knew how to get what he wanted, not only in Kaon, but in other cities as well. What differentiated him from other sellers or arms-dealers was the amount of contacts he had, not to mention Swindle's art of persuasion.

Of course, this charismatic attitude was essential for the type of business he was in. Swindle from his word did have many items to sell, albeit overpriced. Soundwave was aware of Swindle's greed, knowing that it was in the seller's programming.

Soundwave hadn't expected Darkstrike to go there, especially with no credits.

"How did Darkstrike receive drone pieces?" Soundwave asked.

Darkstrike paused. "I traded him..." she said.

"Payment: Items or services?" Soundwave questioned.

She processed the question and her light faceplates began coloring blue. He could feel the femme's glare. Soundwave remained indifferent about it.

"No, I did not pay with services!" she stated indignantly. There was a klik of silence. "I paid with a blade that I... found."

Her pause caused him to become suspicious.

He slowly prodded inside of her mind. Soundwave didn't have to go too deep.

A sword.

A free entrance to a Gladiatorial match.

A kiss on the cheek.

He had automatically stopped when he had received the last thought.

"Your offering was an entrance to a match," he stated.

Her optics widened.

"You... I-I..." she stuttered. Darkstrike gulped, "Well it doesn't matter. At least I bought you all necessary parts, didn't I?"

"Promises will be unfulfilled towards Swindle," he said.

"I can get him everything I promised," Darkstrike stated.

"Decision: Rash. Femme's mistake."

She openly expressed her offense to his statement. He noticed her servos clench and the slight tint of blue on her cheeks

Whether I made mistakes or not, it's not important. Besides, it's not like you're actually concerned about me.

He couldn't decide whether the femme had a point or not. Soundwave shouldn't—didn't care whether the femme would willingly fall into her own trap. She would trade items that were worth more than the things she received. As long as it didn't interfere with him, or his drone, he'd be better off not getting involved.

Soundwave was intelligent enough not to trust Swindle, or anyone for that matter. The femme would learn this on her own. Perhaps this experience would cause her to become more aware and less arrogant.

"Do not be unintelligible. Swindle: Untrustworthy."

She didn't say anything. Darkstrike quickly grabbed the datapad and sat on his berth. He suspected she was angry, though she refused to express it aloud. Soundwave picked up her subtle hints. He should have dropped the subject, simply moved on. However, if he wanted the femme to assist him, he preferred her calm. Trivial emotions would lead to more errors.

"Parts: Unnecessary..." he began.

Is anything ever necessary to you?

Soundwave didn't appreciate her tone, regardless if the words were actually spoken or not. He was doing enough in allowing her in his chambers and warning her about Swindle. Perhaps she was becoming too comfortable around him. He didn't like the idea at all.

Nevertheless, the femme had proved to be useful to him. He wouldn't do anything about it yet. Darkstrike had gotten him parts that would help him advance in this construction. So for now, the pros outweighed the cons.

"However: the parts will serve to be useful."

Soundwave didn't praise or express gratitude. Even so, his words caused the femme to perk up. She looked in his direction, optics wide in surprise. Darkstrike then turned away, but he could somehow feel her smile, a smile he had instigated.

A trivial comment from him seemed to affect her like that. It was unimportant it and should mean little, but it didn't seem like it. Soundwave couldn't remember when he had made anyone genuinely smile. And if he couldn't remember, it never happened. Gladiators only smiled when they had achieved victory, and even then it wasn't genuine. He rejected the idea of Darkstrike being the exception.

It was absurd. He couldn't bear the idea, especially for her. This made his thoughts drift to questioning why had she gotten those parts for him. Soundwave never asked for them; all he expected out of her was that she prove her self-proclaimed intelligence.

His only conclusion was that Darkstrike gifted him the parts out of generosity. They were Gladiators in Kaon. He had given her hints that there was no place for generosity in the middle of their brutality.

She was desperate for his approval; she wanted to prove herself. He hadn't seen the femme express this for anyone else. There were femmes who had expressed this to him, but their intentions had never been as genuine as Darkstrike's.

Any other bot would have been honored. Soundwave was not.

It must have been in her programming or because of the caste she was from. Her good-natured intentions were bothersome. It hinted at the innocence she once had. If she did not extinguish this, he'd terminate it himself. It was a nuisance for her and him.

Soundwave knew the femme hadn't gotten the parts for the sole purpose of the drone. She did it to please him, to impress him even. He already knew the femme held some type of infatuation, it irked him to know he unconsciously was fueling it.

The mech looked back down at his drone. His thoughts were becoming erratic and unusual to him. It was wise to not let the femme disrupt his usual order.

It was a sign for him. A test of his strength, not in the physical aspect, but mentally. He had beaten many physical barriers and he had always prided himself in having great mental stability. He was a telepath, having mental strength was essential or he'd lose himself in the complexity of thoughts.

He would not let the femme's actions bother him again. If Darkstrike was willing to do anything because of her determination, so be it, so long as it worked to his advantage.

"Project will be resumed in two cycles. Return same joors," Soundwave said, "Never enter Soundwave's chambers on other terms. Action: Intolerable."

She seemed to get the message. Darkstrike stood up and quietly exited his chambers. He could still hear her thoughts as she departed. He wasn't sure whether it was intentional or not.


One Orn later

She hurried to the outskirts of the arena. The flier nervously adjusted the sword to her back.

As soon as she stepped towards the large area, she was spotted immediately by the other mechs. It wasn't every cycle that a femme visited the area.

Swindle narrowed his purple optics at her.

"Drixco, Battlesmash, I have to attend to business," he said. As if already accustomed, both mechs departed. Before fully exiting, they glanced at Darkstrike.

Swindle had given them an order, but their curiosity seemed to gave gotten the better of them.

"It's the seeker femme," the larger one said, "One of Swindle's clients."

Her optic twitched in irritation.

"I am not a seeker," she gritted through her denta.

"I ain't stupid. I know a seeker when I see it," the smaller one said.

She huffed, seeing as her words weren't going to convince him. Might as well not waste her breath.

"Can I touch your wings?" he said, ignoring her statement.

Her wings tilted downward in response.

"Yeah, make it rain acid too!" Now they were just mocking her.

"You'd like me to make it rain acid?" she asked, humoring them.

"So you can?"

"Yes," she repeated.

"Really?"

"No," Darkstrike deadpanned.

The mech laughed at his friend. "Besides, Swindle's waitin' for her. This is personal business, Drixco." They threw her a knowing look. The mechs behaved as if knew something she didn't.

She shouldn't have been surprised; Darkstrike was already used to contemptible laughter.

Swindle tapped his fingers on the surface impatiently, managing to get her attention. "I was wondering when you'd show up," he said.

"You worried I'd... swindle you?" she asked.

Swindle deadpanned, "You're not having the best reputation in keeping your deal, femme."

She shrugged. "I am a Gladiator. What good of a reputation can I have?"

"You disappeared on me, Darkstrike," he tutted, "And here I thought you weren't like the others."

She looked away and rubbed her arm. "Apologies. I lost track of time," she said, "Bad news is that I still don't have your free ticket."

Swindle was not amused.

"The thing about a deal is that you have to keep your end. I supply, you provide. It's how it works, darling."

"I get it, don't patronize me," she said sighing, knowing he had a point, "I'll get your ticket soon."

"And let's say, you don't?" he put his servos up in an obvious manner, "Not that I doubt your word." Darkstrike narrowed her optics.

"I'll give you the credits I receive from my next fight," she stated.

"Hmm..." he mused.

"I guess that's a fair deal. I accept," Swindle said, "But, if I don't receive payment immediately after your fight, I'll tell Battlesmash to go track down the pretty little seeker that promised me goods."

She assumed that the "pretty little seeker" was her.

"These are legal affairs as well. Owners can get involved pretty easily with just a wave of the credit," Swindle hummed.

"Alright fine I understand," she said.

"So we're on the same page?" he confirmed.

"Thank you for such agreeable terms," Darkstrike muttered under her breath.

"If only compliments were as valuable as goods," he remarked.

"Somehow, I don't that would be useful to you; I don't think you get many compliments," the femme replied.

"True. But business is business, Sweetspark." Swindle grinned.

He motioned her to come closer. She warily obliged.

"To seal the deal," he said. He grabbed her forearm to bring her closer. Swindle neared his face close to hers and gave her another kiss on the cheek. Her optics widened when she realized that something was off. A shock ran through her as her sensors registered the pain.

Darkstrike immediately backed up, her servo on the spot he had made contact with.

"What the frag?" she cursed. She touched the mark he had left.

"Only I have the remedy to remove that. Unless you permanently want to have that permanently scar you pretty little faceplates, you'll pay me."

"What-! How-! What was that?" she exclaimed.

"A business secret," his voice rung with amusement.

She growled. "I don't like these terms anymore," she snapped.

"Business is business, Sweetspark."

"Was it really necessary?" she questioned.

He let out a curt laugh. "No. You newbies are so easy to get," Swindle said, "Plus, who wouldn't want to give a kiss to the pretty seeker?"

"I am not a seeker," she uttered for the umpteenth time. Darkstrike understood. She had been tricked by this— this mech who knew business all too well. The femme now owed him more than the drone parts were worth. The flier was in debt now over simple pieces. If she failed to complete her part... well, then she was fragged one way or another.

Darkstrike had initiated this deal and now she had a stupid mark on her faceplates to show for it. The femme thought she could handle simple business and trade, but it turned out to much more convoluted.

It was mortifying and the mark on her face was now a reminder that she had not been more intelligent.

"Do not be unintelligible. Swindle: Untrustworthy." Her irk rose even more at recognizing that she had not heeded Soundwave's warning.

Darkstrike turned around from Swindle. Normally, in the ring, you never turned your back on the opponent, but to frag with it. It wasn't like he was going to attack her.

She let out a few growls and she grind her denta together. Darkstrike's servos grasped her helm she let out all her frustration.

Stupid Swindle

Stupid Soundwave

Stupid designations that begin with S.

The femme punched the air and unsheathed her sword, swinging it frantically. She knew she was acting insane but she was beyond caring. Darkstrike swung one last time, relieving herself of the irritation. The femme decided to finally compose herself.

Sheathing her sword, she turned back to Swindle. She crossed her arms. "This is why you don't get compliments," Darkstrike remarked. She brushed herself off. The femme mumbled a few colorful Cybertronian curses.

The flier turned to leave. She took one last glance at Swindle. He was almost as irritating as Magnesium. They sure had that characteristic alike at least. That, and they both seemed to be behind counters.

Perhaps they even knew each other. It was logical considering they both worked in the Pits. Wouldn't that be a coincidence? The chance was slim, but Darkstrike had nothing else to lose. Better to resort to Magnesium for company, than that purple-opticed slagger. It was simple, if Swindle didn't know him, she'd leave and not waste her time there any longer.

"Swindle," she called. He looked at her. "Do you know a mech that goes by Magnesium?"

Swindle chuckled. "So you know him, eh?" he questioned.

Darkstrike stopped in her tracks. "You do know him?" the femme asked.

"I asked first."

"Of course I know him, why else would I ask?" she said in defense.

"Yeah, I know him," Swindle replied after a moment.

"Do you know what happened to him? He hasn't been in the energon room for a few cycles."

"Sounds like you need information. Of course, I can provide, for the right price."

She deadpanned. "I have two credits." Darkstrike said.

"I'll take it."

She tossed it to him, and he caught it with ease.

"Magnesium is no longer needed in his old post. He'll work in another part of Kaon, transferred by one of the owners of course."

Darkstrike's optics widened.

"Transferred? When?"

He shrugged, "Information's blurry."

"So this is the owner's idea?" she asked.

Swindle shrugged again and nodded.

"How many owners are there?" Darkstrike asked.

"Three," he responded.

"Which one is the most easily persuaded?"

"Lanyard."


Darkstrike gave the door a couple knocks, four knocks to be precise. She waited a moment before the doors automatically opened.

The owner, known as Lanyard, vigorously typed on a large datapad. Darkstrike's olfactory sensors detected the scent of high-grade energon. She made a slight noise. He immediately stopped and looked up at Darkstrike.

"Why do you come?" his question was neither asked harshly nor kindly.

OhslagohslagohslagohslagI'msofragged. She froze for a moment, attempting to gather her thoughts and separate them from her words. Darkstrike had to look impressionable. She had to look like she meant business, like Swindle.

Primus, she was doomed if she was making that analogy.

Darkstrike had to be extremely careful in this case. A few wrong words can literally strip her of her Gladiator armor into something she definitely didn't want to be. The owner's final words meant the difference between fighting and interfacing.

She gulped, regret gnawing on the tips of her claws.

Why was she doing this?

Why was she even alive?

Darkstrike still had a chance. She could turn around right now without questioning her existence.

"I'd like to make an offer," she spoke clearly.

So much for that.

Lanyard half-heartedly laughed.

"Oh really? What is it you bring to the table?" he asked. His voice was smooth and calm. He seemed very different than the owner she had met when discovering this arena. At least Swindle hadn't been wrong about that.

Be impressive! Don't be such a Gladiator.

But I am a Gladiator. If all goes according to plan, I'll continue to be one.

"Unlike others, I won't simply make a demand. I understand this concept of business," she said. Darkstrike felt like she was lying to herself. She felt pretentious; it wasn't a good feeling.

"Oh?" he asked, obviously amused.

"The price for a mech? How much would it be?" she asked.

"Depends who the mech is," Lanyard stated.

"Magnesium," she stated.

"Well if you're looking to buy—"

"All I want is for him to return," she said.

"Just return?" Lanyard asked. She nodded. "Unharmed?"

She didn't know how to respond.

"Let me stop you there, Femme. You've already made your first mistake," Lanyard replied, "You obviously have some sort of relationship with him if you want him back. That gives me some sort of leverage over you for future purposes."

She cursed underneath her breath. It had not taken long for this to escalate.

Slag it! She always messed up with these things. It didn't take long for her big mouth to ruin her.

She was a goner.

Darkstrike was now asking herself what Soundwave would expect of her.

Perhaps he would have wanted her to be more quick-witted.

"You overestimate exactly who I tie myself to. I'd like him back, yes, but enough to risk myself greatly, no. The price of buying him is far greater than just having him back."

He looked at her silently.

Inside, she trembled. He could see through her lie! She knew it! Darkstrike was done for!

"What are you willing to do for his return?" Lanyard asked.

She internally sighed in relief.

"How much do you want?" she asked.

"You bore me with numbers." he said.

"Business is boring, but it is what it is."

"It seems you have nothing valuable to offer me. You claim to know about it but in reality, let's face it, you know nothing about business," Lanyard stated.

Darkstrike fumed. She knew he was right, but the way in which he expressed it didn't please her at all.

Lanyard stood up. He began sizing her up, though their heights weren't that off.

"You're the owner's property, and not to mention a femme. You have no advantages and you're not creative," he said. "You're a mere Gladiator and I'm waiting for the moment you quit this... this," he gave a mocking laugh, "...charade."

Her optics narrowed and they glowed, mirroring her anger. The familiar heat began boiling up in her systems. Her claws clenched in an attempt to pacify this intense anger.

"Fine. Let's make this interesting!" Darkstrike's tone became restrained, "Who wants to talk about numbers when there are actions?

"Alright. Boring will now be fun. I'll make you a real deal. For not only Magnesium, but 30 energon cubes, and a free ticket to watch a fight, I will fight not one, but two Gladiators in the ring. I will take them on by myself," she said. "Imagine the many bots who will come see the femme taking on two mechs at the same time. They will all come to see a Gladiator femme either fall or complete the challenge deemed impossible. Some mechs can't even take on one Gladiator, now there's a femme taking on two."

Lanyard let out a pleased laugh.

"Yes! Yes! You speak business! I accept those terms!" he said joyously. Darkstrike was beginning to think he was insane. "You can't back down now. Not with all of these possibilities! Bots from all over the city of Kaon will want to see it to believe it. I'll notify you when you fight, and until then femme, prepare yourself."

He went to roughly shake her servo. Lanyard automatically let it go when he felt how steaming hot it was. She saw the mark it left on his servo but he seemed to brush it off.

"You are a pleasant surprise, Darkstrike."


The femme entered his chambers as expected. She entered quickly and sat on his berth. Soundwave didn't pay much attention until he realized that the datapad was still on his workspace.

Soundwave turned his helm towards her. She hadn't said anything yet. Darkstrike seemed to be staring at the door she had walked through. The femme seemed so concentrated on the surface that she hadn't even bothered to pick up the datapad she was usually so enthralled with.

In fact, the flier hadn't done anything yet. Soundwave wouldn't tolerate her idling. Darkstrike was wasting the time she could have been using to progress. He allowed her in his chambers for a sole purpose, and she wasn't it completing it. Soundwave was not amused.

He wandered into her processor to find traces of the femme's unusual behavior.

Swindle

Bargain

Lanyard

Deal

Slag.

"I'm deep in my own slag, Soundwave," she said.

Darkstrike almost never addressed him by his name. They weren't closely acquainted enough to the point where she could say his name that casually. However, that femme seemed too dazed to be paying attention to her words.

As usual, Soundwave responded with silence.

"I was swindled today. By two different mechs. I set myself up for failure," she said.

Absentmindedly, Darkstrike stood up to grab the datapad from him. As she reached, something caught Soundwave's optic. He grabbed her wrist with reflexes fast enough to make Darkstrike yelp. He wasn't entirely sure why he had done that, but he felt like the femme was insulting him somehow. Soundwave refused to be offended by the femme in his own chambers.

The mech stood up, looking down at her. His fingers grasped her chin, directing her faceplates so that he could take a better look.

He noticed that there was a scar on her faceplates. Soundwave didn't approve. The femme was always injuring herself in battle, but this was different and familiar somehow.

One of his fingers brushed over the scar. He wasn't gentle. Soundwave's touch was not one of a loved one. It was a touch that meant that he was reprimanding her.

He realized that this was Swindle's marking.

This did not please him at all, not that she ever really pleased him. Darkstrike had ignored his one simple caution. He had advised her and she ignored him. A part of him believed she deserved whatever consequence she received.

This was not only insulting him, but herself as well.

"Darkstrike's actions: Imprudent," he stated.

She looked away but he forced her to look at him.

"Speak," he commanded.

"I have yet to complete Swindle's bargain. And I also made a deal with one of the owners, Lanyard." Darkstrike said, red optics wide at the reflection on his visor.

"Proceed."

"I told Lanyard I'd fight two mechs in the same match in exchange for something I want."

He took a moment to find out specific information himself.

"Exchange: Magnesium, Swindle's bargain, Energon cubes," he stated.

Darkstrike froze. She gulped, "Affirmative."

His fingers draped down her neck causing the femme to flinch. "Caution: Ignored. Consequences are from your own actions," Soundwave said.

"Stop patronizing me..." she mumbled.

His fingers wrapped around her neck. It was a loose grip that could tighten with the wrong move. "Disappointing."

Her optics closed and her optic ridges furrowed. Darkstrike flushed in embarrassment. "But I will do better."

"Darkstrike: claims to have knowledge." he said.

"I do!" for the first time, Darkstrike grabbed his arm with one of her servos. Her optics opened, and her claws curled around his arm. The femme wasn't realizing how tight or hot her grip was becoming. Soundwave remained indifferent; he'd been through a lot worse.

"Darkstrike: Clueless."

She quietly growled, not liking her current predicament. "Okay, I get it! I was thoughtless."

"Affirmative." Soundwave stared at her in silence. He was aware how uncomfortable his silent gaze made her, and he intended to use it for that same purpose. Darkstrike began to struggle, causing him to tighten his grip.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked narrowing her optics.

"..." He didn't say anything for a few moments.

Darkstrike's grip became even hotter for some reason. The mech disregarded this. She looked at him with anticipation.

"Sparing: Tomorrow," he replied, "To train for match."

"We're going to spar tomorrow?" Darkstrike questioned in disbelief. I am going to offline.

He gave a simple nod.

"Why?" she questioned.

"Your experience is insufficient. Conclusion: Darkstrike is not prepared to battle two mechs." The Gladiator finally released Darkstrike. She didn't automatically do the same.

Soundwave looked directly at her in the same deadly silence. Darkstrike automatically removed her hold from his arm. She coughed and looked away.

Soundwave then motioned her to come to the seat he was on. Though the action almost seemed spontaneous to her, Darkstrike immediately complied. She wasn't exactly sure what he wanted, but after what had happened, she wouldn't question him. Darkstrike hesitated, but Soundwave grabbed her armored shoulder plate and roughly seated her.

He then proceeded to gather a few materials. The mech returned to her, grabbing her chin to tilt her face up.

Before she could ask, Soundwave spoke, "Swindle's mark: Intolerable."


A/N: My laptop was being absolutely stupid. I probably re-edited this chapter 4 times because the last few times wouldn't save. I ended up giving up for a while, but I did it. Forgive any mistakes I may have missed, I've completely had it and I'm just relieved to have finished. I endured much frustration.

Anyways, on another note, if you didn't get the ending, Soundwave is removing her mark because he doesn't like it.

I've also introduced a minor character. I just really like Swindle, from G1 and Animated, but some mechs don't really like him, *cough cough* Soundwave. That is all fellow readers. I am off now, re-watching all of G1. Wish me luck and please leave me a review down below.