Chapter 10, an Adjustment of Plans
Carly glanced up from a datapad as Steeljaw padded into the med bay. "Hey, Steelie."
"Hi, oooh, good smells." He greeted her teasingly, by burying his nose in her hair. "Strawberries! New shampoo, Carly?"
"Steelie!" She pushed his head away, laughing as she did. "Hey! That tickles!"
He let himself be pushed, and exaggerated the force of the shove by toppling over sideways. He hit the ground with a crash of armor against the metal floor of the med bay, and sprawled out on his side for a second, looking all the world like one very large domestic cat, with a lion's metal ruff.
Then he grinned playfully, rolled up onto his chest, and asked, "Daniel around? I promised I'd take him out for a hike sometime soon."
"He's out with Bee somewhere, I think. They'll be back by lunch time." Carly frowned at her datapad, glad to see Steeljaw, but halfway distracted by the challenge that Ratchet had given her. Ratchet had asked her to find a good English language recognition program. They were both pretty sure there was some commercially available software that they could adapt to their needs. "Steeljaw, what do you think of this? We're looking for something we can modify to work with Soundwave's heads-up display in his visor."
She handed him the data pad, curious about his take on the problem, and valuing his input. She was embarrassed to know that she had thought of Steeljaw as an intelligent animal at first - talking, but not that bright, or at least, not that sophisticated. It had taken awhile before she'd realized just how smart, and well educated, he really was. The reality was that he'd been involved in Autobot communications since humans had been writing in hieroglyphics, and a that experience had involved establishing communications systems with alien races. This sort of hack job was right smack in his area of expertise.
"Mmm." Steeljaw's whole demeanor changed immediately, from goofy to serious. "I think this one will work." He indicated a window with information about one of several options for programs, with one stubby finger. "It will be the easiest to modify. We can partition off part of his visor's CPU and install a Windows image on it - I did something similar for Jazz so he could play games on his visor."
She snorted a laugh. "Seriously? I did not know that Jazz played games on his HUD."
"Oh, seriously." Steeljaw's grin bared a lot of teeth.
"Now there's a way to survive boring meetings." She was not surprised by this little revelation, though a bit envious.
"My vocalizer's mute on that point. - As far as the voice recognition program goes, as I'm sure you've figured out, the big issue will be getting it to accept input from Soundwave's audio sensors, given the usual hardware issues." Steeljaw frowned. "There's several problems …"
"You guys always think about integrated systems." She could have predicted that Steeljaw would take this approach. "Why do we even need to connect it to his ears? I'll just attach a mic to his visor."
She watched, amused, as Steeljaw processed that simple concept. He blinked twice, then grunted. "That'll work, as long as the microphone's sensitive enough. And tough enough. Don't forget that it could potentially be exposed to non-Earth atmospheres, extremes of temperature, and high gee forces."
"If he visits Titan, we'll figure something out. I doubt he'll be in combat in the forseeable future."
"Don't make that assumption. Don't forget we're in the middle of a war. His survival could be directly impacted by his ability to communicate." Steeljaw's rebuke was gentle, and he took the sting out of his words by smiling at her briefly. "We'll look into external microphones for his visor, but we cannot forget the need for durability. That is why I prefer to use his audio sensors. They are designed for durability in ways that an external microphone isn't."
"Okay," she said, "but you get to debug that design. - So, I take it you are free to work with me on this?" She grinned, looking forward to it, and already anticipating his answer. "Ratchet wants this done ASAP."
"Yeah, I can, but we should get Frenzy involved …"
"The Decepticreep?" She was truly surprised, and a bit put off, by the suggestion. "Not unless I have a pulse cannon aimed at his spark chamber the whole time."
Steeljaw froze, then looked up at her with a tight frown on his face. She was surprised by his reaction. "Frenzy's okay."
"Okay?" She literally took a step back from him. "Okay? It's one thing to - to fix Soundwave. Okay, I get it, he's damaged, he can't communicate, so helping him is the right thing to do. But Frenzy … Frenzy's the enemy and he's … he's fine. I'm sorry, Steelie. I am not going to work with Frenzy. You have to be out of your mind." She was so flustered by the idea that she found herself stuttering.
"I'm sorry. I should have considered your feelings …" Steeljaw sighed. "Carly, Frenzy is not a Decepticon anymore. He won't hurt you, and he's trying very hard to fit in here. Could you at least give him a chance?"
"No."
"Carly …"
"Absolutely not. I will not work with Frenzy. Not ever. Not after the times he's tried to kill us. He's a damn freak of a monster."
A small noise made her look towards the door. Frenzy stood there, staring at her, for a second. Clearly, he'd heard her words. Then he snapped, "At least I'm not a smelly stupid squishy!"
"Frenzy!" Steeljaw whirled. "That was uncalled for."
"You heard what she said!"
Something passed between them on the comms. She saw Steeljaw's eyes narrow. Frenzy glared. Steeljaw's ears pinned flat. She suspected he was pretty annoyed, because he was usually the most easy-going of Autobots. Frenzy, much to her surprise, didn't return the anger with the fury she'd come to expect from the cassette. Instead, he drooped and stared at the ground.
Whatever Steeljaw had said, it had, apparently, had quite an impact.
After a moment, he padded forward, towards her. She tensed. Steeljaw, however, seemed totally relaxed. He said, in a calm tone of voice, "Carly, I want to re-introduce you to Frenzy, who is not a monster, and who will behave himself. I've also reminded him of why you would consider him a monster, including the time he tried to kill Daniel. Frenzy, this is Carly, who is my good friend, who is Daniel's mother, and who can't help but take it personally when you threaten her loved ones.."
She blinked at the Steeljaw's words. Frenzy grumbled, "I get it!"
"Good. Don't forget it." Steeljaw's optics narowed at Frenzy. Then he sighed. "Frenzy, I'm not angry at you, but you need to keep a lid on that temper."
"Heh. Easier said than done." Frenzy flashed Steeljaw a grin.
She was surprised again at the rueful sense of humor in those words. Frenzy's bezerker rages were well known. She'd never even thought of him being so self aware as to joke about them. Pretty much, she'd always dismissed Frenzy as being one the many Decepticons who were both insane and evil. He was just shorter most of them.
Frenzy, meanwhile, regarded her warily, Decepticon-red optics glittering with unreadable emotions. Then, with a wry tone that made him sound so very normal, he said, "Umm, hi. I guess you do have a right to hate me."
"You're shorter than I thought." She wasn't in a mood to be friendly. She just wasn't. It was a complete non sequitor of a response, and she was surprised by herself - it was the first insult that had come to mind. Great, she thought, The Decepticreep has better manners than I do. Thirty-some years of experience fighting his faction had left her more than a bit wary.
Frenzy grinned. The smile was a surprise, transforming his whole face. She'd expected a snarl from him, not that quick flash of humor. Apparently, he wasn't sensitive about his height. Given that every single one of the Autobot cassettes and most of the minibots could be reduced to spitting outrage with sufficient teasing about their size, that was a bit of a surprise. She learned he could give as good as he got, too, when he drawled back, "I'm still taller than you, squishy."
"By what, two inches?" She bristled before realizing that Frenzy had neatly turned the tables on her.
"Carly, could you try to be nice?" Steeljaw rolled his optics.
She wondered what Steeljaw's issue was, anyway. Steelie didn't like 'cons any more than she did. When she had heard that Frenzy was a prisoner on the base, and that he was being put to work, she'd somehow envisioned him shuffling along in chains, either defiantly nasty or whipped and submissive. She had not anticipated him grinning at her from a couple of feet away, acting for all the world just like another mech. A reasonable mech, all things considered. Still, he'd tried to kill Daniel once, which brought out the mama bear in her, and she just didn't want to deal with him.
"Why should I?" she said, finally. Steeljaw had to have lost his mind.
The smile finally slipped from Frenzy's face. Decades among mechs let her see sudden, sharp, pain in his optics. The dimming of the light in his eyes, and the tightening of his irises, was unmistakable. However, instead of the furious response that she would have expected, he took a step back from her, and crossed his arms and looked away. That … wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, though clearly she'd scored.
Frenzy said nothing, but Steeljaw gave her a dirty look and answered her question with, "Because it would be polite?"
"It's okay, Steeljaw." Frenzy hunched his shoulders a little more. "She's got her reasons."
Steeljaw, much to her shock, leaned his head and shoulders against Frenzy's chest. That was a Steelie-hug, and she was even more surprised when Frenzy wrapped his arms around Steeljaw's neck in return. Steeljaw was still glaring at her. She'd known him half her life, and she couldn't remember the last time he'd favored her with a look that showed that much displeasure.
She looked from Steeljaw, to Frenzy, and back to Steeljaw. Frenzy's jaw was set now. He seemed acutely unhappy, and his fingers were curled into a crack in Steeljaw's armor. That little liberty made her want to tear Frenzy away from Steeljaw … she liked Steeljaw, considered him a personal friend, and was admittedly protective of him. He was just such a sweetheart!
However, Steelhaw did not seem to mind that the Decepticreep had his arms around Steeljaw's neck. The castte finally huffed a sigh, said in a too-carefully-controlled tone, "Frenzy won't hurt you, I promise, Carly. Would you give him one chance, for me?"
She asked, "Am I missing something?"
"Yes." Steeljaw grinned. Apparently, she was forgiven already. "But we can't talk about it. Just - give him a chance. Just one. It's all he'll need."
"All he'll need to kill me," she muttered, but she had been around the mechs for many years, and she actually did trust Steeljaw's judgment. He probably did know something she didn't, and he couldn't talk about it. Had Frenzy been an undercover agent or something? That thought occurred to her as an explanation for their behavior. Maybe they'd known each other before - they were certainly being chummy.
Over the years, she had come to suspect that the Autobots had at least one mole. There had been a few times when Jazz or Prowl had intelligence that would have been impossible for them to obtain any other way. Was Frenzy really an Autobot operative, come home to roost? That had some interesting implications for his master's loyalties, as well.
She huffed a sigh at both of them. Clearly, she wasn't on the need-to-know list, which meant her curiosity was going to eat her alive until she figured it out. "Tell you what - both of you stick around, and I'll work with Frenzy."
If she worked with the slagger, maybe she'd get a chance to figure the whole story out!
"Sounds like a deal." Steeljaw smiled. He looked keenly relieved.
"I'm not off the clock until this afternoon," Frenzy put in, "Wheeljack just sent me to the med bay to get some duryllium bolts. I could help ya later today, though."
"We could meet after dinner, for Carly - maybe seven-ish?" Steeljaw suggested. "That will give Carly time to download the software and have a preliminary look at the specs on the visor."
"Works for me." She still didn't like it, though weirdly, Frenzy's comment about being 'on the clock' made her feel marginally better about working with him, for reasons she couldn't totally explain. Maybe it just implied a certain degree of responsibility and professionalism that she hadn't expected.
Who was Frenzy? Now she was intrigued. Steeljaw wasn't likely to let much slip that was top secret, but she decided that she might see what information she could pry out of his brothers. Rewind was a journalist to the core of his being, and she'd never met a journalist yet, of any species, that didn't like to gossip … and sometimes he let slip things he shouldn't, with a wink and a grin and a cheerful, "Oops! But don't tell anyone!"
The sound of shuffling, sliding, uneven metal footsteps warned her of the arrival of the other Decepticon, the one who truthfully scared her far more than Frenzy did. She looked up - way up - as Soundwave swayed through the door.
He was so visibly unstable that she didn't want to get within falling distance of him. He stumbled and staggered as he moved, catching his balance with one hand against the door, then again by grabbing onto a medical berth. In his other hand, he had somebody's arm.
Frenzy's face lit up when he saw his master. "Hey, Boss!" He said, running across the room. Soundwave sat down at a work bench, and Frenzy scrambled up onto it next to him.
Bemused, she watched as Frenzy smiled up at him his master. There was trust and real affection between them. She hadn't expected that Soundwave would be worthy of trust from anyone, or that Frenzy might care about anyone or anything but his own aft. He had always seemed to be a bit on the nastily aggressive side whenever she'd encountered him in the past.
She also wasn't expecting it when Steeljaw smoothly jumped up onto the desk and sprawled out next to the arm. He produced a socket wrench from his subspace and proceeded to assist Soundwave with getting the armor off. Soundwave seemed surprisedby Steeljaw's help, particularly when Steelie casually ducked under his arm, back brushing against his wrist, to reach another nut.
She wondered what Soundwave was thinking. Aggressive thoughts, perhaps? She'd had an unfortunate first-hand view of Soundwave in combat a few times. He wasn't aggressive so much as cool and calculating. He scared her in ways the psychotically aggressive Decepticons didn't!
Steeljaw ignored Soundwave's surprise, and casually kept working with the same competence she saw him display when helping one of the Autobots.
"Whose arm is that?" She asked, finally, not recognizing it.
"Hmm?" Steeljaw frowned at it. "I'm not sure. Ratchet's got Soundwave parting out all our salvage. He told Frenzy it's good therapy for him to do some work like this. I think this came from a battle on Cybertron, quite awhile ago. Must've been a Decepticon. I don't recognize it."
"I recognize it," Frenzy said, casually. "I think it's Swindle's. Hook was furious that he had to build him a new one."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Optimus lopped it off with his energon sword." Steeljaw pointed out a cluster of electronics. "There's quite a few useful circuits here, and everything from the elbow down should be salvageable."
"Optimus kicked aft in that fight," Frenzy said, in what sounded like real appreciation.
Steeljaw chuckled. "Watch it, Frenzy. You'll make me think you've got a crush on him."
"Who doesn't?" Frenzy giggled, much to her astonishment. She would have thought being accused of crushing on Optimus would have been an insult to a Decpeticon - or even a former Decepticon.
"True." Steeljaw agreed, with a smirk. Well, she had to agree they were right, when it came to Optimus. The mech just had charisma. Steeljaw continued, "You know who I think has the biggest crush on him, though?"
"Who?" Frenzy asked.
"Ratchet. He'd just never admit it. Optimus is about the only mech that Ratchet doesn't yell at, though, and Ratchet actually listens when Optimus gives him advice. He doesn't do that for just anyone."
"Seriously?" Frenzy sounded intrigued. "What does Optimus think?"
"Who, Prime?" Steeljaw shook his head in negation. "It's all one-sided. Optimus had one love of his life. She died a long time ago. He's never looked at another mech since. - oh, oops, slag." Steeljaw lifted his head up, clearly listening to something over a comm channel. "Frenzy, I gotta go. Your buddies are coming."
"Huh?"
"We're under attack," Steeljaw clarified.
"Not my buddies!" Frenzy sounded more than a little offended.
"Teasing, shrimp." Steeljaw hopped back down off the desk. "Blaster says that …" a klaxon sounded, for the benefit of the humans on the base, "... that Ratchet will be by to take Soundwave 'n you to the brig. Sorry 'bout that."
"I understand." Frenzy hunched his shoulders a bit. "You can't trust me n' Soundwave yet."
"I'd trust you." Steeljaw countered, "But … yeah. We can't."
Soundwave had stood up at the sound of the klaxon. Clearly, he knew what it meant, and he shifted unsteadily now, looking about. .
"Be careful, Mouser." Frenzy, very much to her astonishment, hopped down off the desk after the other cassette, and hugged Steeljaw. "Don't get yourself killed on me."
Steeljaw whirled about and ran for the door, just as Ratchet entered. Ratchet glanced at her and then said without preamble, "Get a couple crash kits out. We've already taken some casualties - Prowl's down. C'mon, Soundwave. Let's go." He reached for Soundwave's elbow, clearly intending to guide him out of the room.
Soundwave resisted, digging in his feet, and balking. He was larger than Ratchet, and when Ratchet tried to muscle him forward by sheer strength, Soundwave stumbled and nearly took both of them to the floor.
"Slag, I don't have time for this!" Ratchet snarled. "Frenzy, got any suggestions?"
"He's panicking. I don't know why." Frenzy backed up, eyes narrowing. "No, wait, I get it. I think he's worried we'll be separated. He'll follow me …" Frenzy headed for the door.
That did it. Ratchet lurched out the door, hauling Soundwave along at very close to a run, as Frenzy trotted before them. Soundwave was making staticky noises, and very obviously didn't want to lose sight of his symbiont.
Huh. Carly shook her head, confused by the whole incident, then went to get the kits that Ratchet had mentioned. They were probably going to be very busy in the med bay for the next several hours.
Frenzy sat in silence, arms around his knees, listening to the sounds of the battle. He wasn't sure who was winning - but he could feel the deep percussive whoomph of heavy ordinance, and the occasional shout of an Autobot that filtered down through the ventilation shafts. The med bay was two levels above them, and Ratchet's occasional oath or Skyfire's deeper rumbles were clear enough to Cybertronian sensors.
Soundwave tentatively reached a hand out, trying to coax him into his dock. It would be safer, Frenzy knew, if things really went south. This ship was half buried under a mountain. He could envision the entire mountain collapsing on them, crushing the ship, burying them under hundreds of feet of dirt and rock … killing Soundwave … trapping him inside Soundwave … still alive …
He whined as a feeling of claustrophobia rose. He wanted out. He hopped up, pacing restlessly. It was thirty of his strides from one end of the cell to the other and back. He wanted out. He was trapped. Trapped.
A nightmare flash of light. A terrible sense of loss. A concussion that flipped him off his feet.
He shuddered, remembering that moment when five sparks bound to his ceased to be.
He was two strides from one wall. He slammed a fist into it when he reached it, "Let me out!"
He wished for his pile drivers.
"Out!"
He'd let them lock him in, willingly. Had cooperated with Ratchet to coax Soundwave into the cell. Even now, he ttrusted Ratchet to let them out, later.
And then he'd heard the explosions.
"I want out!" He couldn't help it. He pounded on the wall as panic surged through his systems.
What if they lost?
A close explosion shook the cell, transmitted through the hearth with enough force to vibrate the ground. The lights flickered. His fans stuttered.
What if the Autobots lost? Would the Decepticons let him out, or just offline him and Soundwave on the spot? They were trapped. Cornered. Helpless. What if the 'cons just left them here!
He wished desperately for his pile drivers, his rifle, his siblings. He hit the wall as hard as he could, and didn't even leave a dent. "Let me out! Please! Don't leave me in here!"
The lights flickered a second time. Was that smoke he smelled? Yes, it was.
A whole new horror occurred to him. What if the ship caught on fire? The fuel tanks were three levels beneath him. He knew that from past exploration of the Ark. They'd be incinerated. It would be a hell of a way to die. Cybertronians were not impervious to fire, but it was a slow, agonizing death.
He was trapped!
Soundwave made a come here gesture. Soundwave wasn't as frightened as he was, in fact, his master seemed surprisingly calm. Soundwave tapped his chest, shook his head firmly, then made another summoning motion with his hand.
Soundwave wouldn't force him to do something he really didn't want to … and the thought of returning to his dock was absolutely terrifying. He reminded himself that Soundwave had never forced him into anything, had always treated him fairly and with respect, and suddenly spun and ran to his master. Soundwave's arms folded about him protectively, and Frenzy clung to him, suddenly desperate for his reassurance.
Another explosion rumbled through the base, making the floor vibrate. Dust filtered down from the ceiling.
Soundwave stroked his head, his back. He leaned against the wall, and shuttered his eyes, and just sat there with Frenzy in his lap.
He was trapped.
He was with Soundwave.
Soundwave felt like Soundwave. Surprisingly so, actually. He was calm and his emotions clear and coherent.
Pit, he needed a distraction. He fought down an urge to panic a second time. Soundwave's arm tightened around him comfortingly, protectively. He felt dizzy and out of sorts; Rumble and the others should have been a steadying force. It was harder to regulate his mood without their steadying presence, in a situation like this. He hadn't realized, until just now, how much he'd relied on their perceptions.
Soundwave was utterly calm and he tried to focus on that. His master made an encouraging noise, and calmly produced a polishing rag from his subspace. Not too long ago, Ratchet had commented that Soundwave could still do his detailing … the thought that Soundwave apparently planned to polish his plates now struck him as funny, and he giggled.
Soundwave's hands were steady, and felt exactly like they should - firm, confident, capable.
He shuttered his optics, wrapped his arms around his knees, sat in Soundwave's lap, and focused on Soundwave's touch. He tried to pretend this was normal. He could easily summon normal, domestic, routine memories of Soundwave, and his siblings, and time spent in their quarters apart from the rest of the army.
And … in every memory was a reminder of his siblings. He missed them so much.
Soundwave's hand stilled, for a second, and then resumed the steady, even strokes. Soundwave's emotions across the bond felt better than they had since he'd been injured, Frenzy realized, well aware of the irony. Soundwave was wired to provide for and protect his symbionts. He knew that Soundwave felt that he had failed them. It had to feel good to Soundwave to be able to do something for Frenzy now.
Frenzy, who had never been touchy feely, who had never liked cuddling, leaned against Soundwave's chest, shuttered his optics and did not object at all when Soundwave's arms tightened into a silent embrace of support.
They needed each other.
He'd never quite realized how true that was until now.
Soundwave wasn't quite in recharge when the brig door slid open, a day later. An Autobot he recognized only slightly - Hot Rod - limped through the door. The young mech's bright colors were singed, and he was missing most of the armor on his thigh. His leg showed signs of temporary repairs, including plates tacked on to support a shattered femoral strut. The young warrior smelled of ozone and energon, and his face had the harsh set of a soldier who'd come fresh off the battle field.
Soundwave tensed, wondering if the kid had come down to the brig to exact retribution. Ratchet might not believe in revenge, but that didn't mean the rest of the army didn't bear grudges. It had been a hell of a battle.
Frenzy was soundly recharging in his arms, head resting on Soundwave's shoulder. He nudged the kid awake when his emotional alarm didn't rouse him, and Frenzy sleepily lifted his head up. He saw Hot Rod, registered Soundwave's mood, and then scrambled down. Arms folded, jaw set, he glared at the Autobot. His anxiety spiked, matching Soundwave's response.
Hot Rod smirked and said something teasing. Frenzy's anxiety turned to real anger.
Soundwave was not happy about that reaction. He was concerned that Frenzy might say something provoking. Soundwave couldn't speak, but he could hit Frenzy with a burst of static across their bond.. Frenzy jumped, whirled, and stared at him. Guilt replaced the anger, and then was followed by a flare of grief and loss and general misery. Soundwave was rocked by that response, and unsettled by Frenzy's sense of guilt.
Well, he could worry about Frenzy's thoughts later. In the past, he would have issued a quick, silent, rebuke for letting the Autobot provoke him. He spat static again, hoping Frenzy would understand. Frenzy's temper was something he constantly struggled with, though he had far more control over it now than he had when they'd first met - when he'd been a sullent, resentful, angry youngling who'd sold himself into slavery to survive.
Frenzy clearly understood Soundwave's intent, because he huffed a sigh, crossed his arms, turned back to the Autobot, and said something that sounded more-or-less polite. The Autobot, to Soundwave's dismay, burst out laughing and that provoked a reaction perilously close to rage from Frenzy, who glared and balled both fists up.
Then the young Autobot patted Frenzy on the top of the head.
Frenzy slapped his hand aside and his fury morphed into indignant, embarrassed, outrage. Before Soundwave could rebuke him a second time, he snarled something that was undoubtedly rude and crude, then stomped past Hot Rod. Hot Rod made a grab for him, Frenzy ducked with lightning quick reflexes, and Soundwave lunged in his defense, all in one second.
Hot Rod's second grab came up short when Soundwave gripped his shoulder. Soundwave used his much greater bulk to slam the injured soldier against the wall, then rammed his knee into Hot Rod's injured leg, and slammed the heel of his hand into Hot Rod's faceplate in one violent move. He was off balance and unsteady on his feet, but he was also a good bit bigger than Hot Rod, and he'd been a Decepticon for more than half his life. He could brawl with the best of them when the situation required it.
Still, he startled himself by how easily he took the Autobot soldier down. He'd had surprise on his side, and fear for Frenzy - plus combat training that was nearly hardwired into his frame. Now, he leaned his full weight on his forearm, across Hot Rod's throat, pinning him to the wall and threatening damage to his air intakes. Hot Rod, optics wide, stared at him in shock. Frenzy was yelling behind him, in a near panic state.
Slag.
Assaulting his captor probably hadn't been the wisest of moves. Soundwave frantically processed the problem of de-escalating the situation. Hot Rod was known to be a hot head, he recalled, but he wasn't vicious or cruel. The Autobots had treated him well in the time he'd been here. He had been accorded the same care as an honored guest, not a prisoner, until circumstances had dictated that they be locked up for everyone's safety. It was a safe conclusion that the Autobots were under orders not to harm him.
The world was spinning around him as his damaged sensor arrays misfired. He'd managed to ignore that vicious vertigo for a few moments, but he knew he couldn't keep the upper hand once the shock wore off and Hot Rod started seriously fighting back. Even injured, even at two-thirds Soundwave's mass, Hot Rod could defeat him easily. He couldn't keep Hot Rod pinned to the wall forever.
Soundwave, surrender, he thought, grimly. And better to do it now, immediately, now that the threat to Frenzy was lessened. (Though not eliminated - he'd known a few mechs over the years who might shoot Frenzy out of spite, as soon as he released them. He didn't think Hot Rod was one of them, however. The young soldier looked more scared than angry.)
With fear threatening to stall his very spark, he stepped back and released the prisoner. Swaying only a little (he really was getting better at ignoring the vertigo) he lifted his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. Frenzy, behind him, spat some sort of acidic comment. He wished he could tell Frenzy to cease baiting the Autobot… though he had a feeling Hot Rod wouldn't try to touch his symbiont again!
The Autobot soldier scrambled away from both of them, and produced a rifle from his subspace. As he had expected, Soundwave found himself staring down the barrel of a hefty sized gun, and he tensed. At this range, the soldier couldn't miss, that gun was plenty big enough to put a lethal hole in him, and he'd certainly given him plenty of provocation. Frenzy was still screaming obscenities, anger pushing him beyond any fear. His symbiont started to leap forward, probably in his defense, and Soundwave made a frantic grab.
He successfully reached down and caught Frenzy as he rushed past - without getting shot, though the shoulder spat a nervous command at them - and began to back away into the cell, with Frenzy in one hand. Frenzy was quivering with outrage, and issuing undoubtedly vile threats. He tightened his grip on Frenzy's arm to the point of pain, and finally got his point across. Frenzy fell silent, but was still incensed.
He thought if he backed into the cell, Hot Rod could close the door and feel secure. That would de-escalate the situation. He could deal with the fallout later. He'd attacked an Autobot. Certainly, they wouldn't forgive him for that! At the moment, however, he was just trying to avoid further violence.
Two strides from the door he tripped. Unable to accurately balance, he fell backwards in a huge crash of armor. He flung Frenzy free and clear of his fall as he went down; Frenzy, always agile, landed neatly on his feet and then slid into the wall with a crash of his own. Horrified, he expected Frenzy to leap to the attack. So, clearly, did Hot Rod, whose gun wavered between the two of them. He waited for a blast, systems stalling in terror for Frenzy. Frenzy, perhaps fortunately, had been stunned by the fall and his eyes were flickering as his systems reset themselves. In about two nanoclicks he was going to be back on his feet and fighting, however.
The door to the brig slid open and Red Alert and Prowl both ran in. Red Alert snarled something that made Hot Rod jerk his gun towards the ceiling. Prowl's comment that followed was probably more scathing and less angry, and it made Hot Rod's mouth twist into an unhappy scowl. Red Alert stabbed a finger at an obvious security camera, high on one wall, and proceeded to address the young soldier with clear ire.
Prowl, meanwhile, had turned his attention to Frenzy. In a carefully controlled voice, he asked Frenzy something. Frenzy calmed instantly, angry but no longer out of control. Soundwave relaxed, just a little, as Frenzy jerked his chin upwards, folded his arms, and answered Prowl's questions in a civil tone.
Soundwave was stunned when Prowl then reached down offered him a hand up. Hot Rod's weapon disappeared, and he said something to Frenzy that made Frenzy smirk. Probably, it was an apology, and probably, Frenzy was being less than gracious. Soundwave spat a burst of static at him in rebuke.
Frenzy sighed, and uttered a phrase that sounded a lot more sincere, with several glances in Soundwave's direction. Soundwave wished he could praise the kid for his control, though he supposed Frenzy could tell he approved from the wide open bond between them. Frenzy struggled so much with keeping that temper under control. Strong emotions, both positive and negative, were just simply part of Frenzy's spark. It said something about Prowl's aura of cool confidence that he'd defused Frenzy's fury so quickly.
After pulling him back to his feet, Prowl looked up at Soundwave with a long, measuring stare. Soundwave coolly returned the look from behind his visor, noting that the shorter mech had fresh weld marks in multiple spots. Then, after flicking his doorwings back with a decisive move, Prowl addressed Frenzy again. Frenzy's emotions changed to sudden pride and a glow of bright pleasure, but tinged strongly with worry. Red Alert, meanwhile, had snapped one final scathing comment at Hot Rod - who, with clear reluctance, offered Soundwave his arm and shoulder to lean on.
Frenzy was deeply amused now. Soundwave inferred that Hot Rod had just gotten in considerable trouble, and had received the lecture of a lifetime from the security director. Still, he hesitated before reaching out for the young solder's arm. Soundwave was capable of walking, if a bit unsteadily. He considered spurning the offer. However, he suspected that the officers were trying to prove to Hot Rod that he was not a threat unless maltreated, or his symbiont was in danger. Somewhat reluctantly (he wasn't convinced that Hot Rod wasn't a threat) he reached out and rested a hand on the soldier's shoulder.
Hot Rod, body very stiff, radiating unease, headed slowly for the door. Prowl padded behind them. Frenzy trotted reassuringly close to his side, at sufficient distance to dodge if he fell, but not so far that that Soundwave couldn't keep track of him.
As soon as they left the brig it was obvious that the Autobots had been in a truly nasty battle. They passed several soldiers with varying degrees of damage, including Jazz, who was missing his visor and had a shattered optic and misaligned jaw. Prowl stopped them briefly to speak to Jazz and put a concerned hand on his shoulder. Jazz smirked crookedly, said something that sounded sarcastic, and drew a line across his throat with one finger.
Soundwave might have been worried by that gesture if it didn't provoke a laugh from Frenzy. He decided that comment and gesture was probably along the lines of, Yeah, but you should've seen the other guy!
When they got close to the med bay, they started seeing mechs sitting or lying in the hall, waiting to be seen. Much to his shock, one of the injured was Optimus Prime himself, who was leaning against an energon smeared wall. He had a drip in his arm and his optics were shuttered in apparent exhaustion or sedation. He'd taken some heavy damage, with one leg mangled from the knee down and an arm nearly blown off.
Optimus's optics lit as they approached. He started to straighten up, and Prowl growled something very firm at him. He slumped back against the wall, then beckoned Frenzy over with a curl of the fingers of his good hand.
Soundwave stopped, watching, as Optimus rested a hand on Frenzy's shoulder. He wasn't concerned that Optimus would hurt Frenzy, but he was curious. Somewhat to his surprise, Frenzy didn't object to Optimus's touch overly much. Optimus said something in a low tone to Frenzy, whose mood swelled with pride and pleasure. Optimus squeezed his shoulder, and then said something to Hot Rod that made Hot Rod bark a surprised laugh.
He found himself bemused by Frenzy's reaction. Whatever Optimus had said to the kid was very flattering, and honest and well-earned praise was probably the quickest way to get Frenzy's cooperation and loyalty. Optimus was lucky he wasn't another carrier; he would have not tolerated that sort of interaction with his symbiont from someone like Blaster!
However, the fact that Optimus Prime was sitting on his aft in a corridor full of injured mechs worried him. He would have assumed that Optimus would be one of the first to be treated, unless they were still doing battle triage. Under battle triage conditions, you fixed the mechs with easily repaired damage first, then the critical cases, and then time consuming repairs of mid-level injuries like Optimus's. At least, that was the theory. Soundwave knew very well that Megatron would have been the first in the med bay, regardless of circumstances. It didn't appear that Optimus was about to offline, but he was certainly in rough shape, and he was sitting with the troops.
Frenzy reached up and rested a hand on Optimus's forearm. It was a familiar gesture, and spoke of trust and even a hint of friendship between them. It also caused a ripple of reaction to flow down the corridor of injured mechs.
Optimus gave Frenzy a gentle shove in the direction of the med bay, and smiled.
They need our help, he realized. That would explain why Prowl and Red Alert had been so quick to leap to his defense, and why Frenzy was suddenly so full of pride.
His guess seemed right, too. When he stepped through the sliding doors he realized that the scene was one of mass chaos and devastation. Ratchet was nowhere in sight. Wheeljack was up to his elbows in the red Lamborghini twin's mangled chassis. Bumblebee, of all mechs, was welding on Skyfire's wing - and doing a sloppy job of it, but the yellow minibot looked like he was uninjured and maybe anyone who could hold a torch was being put to work on repairs. All three of the adult humans that associated with the Autobots were clustered together over an unconscious Tracks, discussing some sort of a problem in urgent voices.
He … could help. That was doubtless why he was here. They were short on staff, long on injuries, and Ratchet knew damn well that he had a fair amount of engineering and medical training. Ratchet was a pragmatic mech, and probably saw him as just another pair of available hands.
Soundwave surveyed the room, decided that Skyfire's wing was probably the most critical repair, given that Skyfire was their air ambulance, and he was willing to bet that they still had wounded out in the field. He lurched over and held his hand out for the welding torch. Bumblebee was making quite a mess of that weld.
The little minibot gave him an alarmed look.
Skyfire, who was face down on a berth, lifted his head, saw Soundwave, and said something reassuring to Bumblebee. Bumblebee, somewhat reluctantly, handed the torch over.
It appeared that Skyfire had taken a laser rifle blast to his right wing. Soundwave peered through the rent metal at the inner struts, which looked untouched, then proceeded with the patch job. It wasn't going to be pretty, but it was a quick repair and would get Skyfire back in the air.
Fifteen minutes later, Skyfire ran out the door. His hefty weight shook the floor as he hurried for the exit. Soundwave had apparently been right when he guessed that Skyfire was needed to recover the wounded.
Bumblebee also hurried to the door and summoned someone inside. It was Silverbolt, who stopped short when he saw Soundwave standing next to the berth. Wheeljack looked up and barked a command at Silverbolt, who gave Soundwave one long look, Wheeljack an even longer look (Soundwave guessed they might have had a quick discussion by radio) then laid down on the berth. He'd taken some damage to one of his hip joints.
Soundwave hesitated, unsure if he should really get started on something like this. He felt he was capable of the repair, as long as he had something to sit on, but he was still uneasy for a multitude of reasons. A moment later, however, Ratchet appeared and pushed a stool over to him. The medic stood next to him, handed Soundwave a light, and got to work on the repair himself.
Apparently, he just wanted Soundwave to hold the light … and, as it turned out, pull on bits of wire, hold parts in place, and generally be a second set of hands. Soundwave, who had multiple degrees in engineering and who could and did design frames from the protoform out, suddenly felt completely confident. He knew what Ratchet needed to do, and what he needed to do to be helpful.
Halfway through the repair, Ratchet flashed him a quick smile, reassuring in its honesty. It was clear from Ratchet's expression that his help was valued and appreciated. Behind his mask, he found himself trying not to smile back.
Then Ratchet's expression changed. The whole mood in the med bay shifted, and Soundwave guessed that they'd heard something over the radio. Ratchet shoved the wrench in his hand at Soundwave, then turned towards the door, even as the other medics and engineers reacted as well. Skyfire burst through the door, a red minibot in his arms. His chest was streaked with energon, and he shouted something urgent.
Ratchet snarled several commands at his team, and then he, Skyfire, and Wheeljack disappeared into one of the surgical bays. He could hear Ratchet's cursing continue, and the lower reverb of Skyfire's voice, answering in steady tones.
Soundwave quietly returned to the repair on Silverbolt's hip. The minibot was not going to make it. He'd seen the level of damage as they'd entered. Some injuries simply could not be repaired. He wasn't sure why Ratchet was even going to try; others needed him, and Ratchet's efforts would be wasted on the minibot.
He didn't understand the mech.
Ratchet's cursing ceased, for a moment. When he resumed talking, voice muffled by the closed door, there was an urgent note to his voice that spoke of desperation. He was losing this battle, as Soundwave had known he would.
He did not understand Ratchet … but when Ratchet's voice abruptly silenced, and Wheeljack began to speak in a low tone, he knew the inevitable had happened. He looked up from his work as the three emerged from the med bay. Every Autobot stared at them. Ratchet shook his head grimly, then without a word, stalked across the room towards Soundwave.
Silently, Ratchet returned to work on Silverbolt's ravaged hip. He snatched the wrench back from Soundwave's hand without comment, and evident impatience. For a second, Soundwave wondered if he'd done something wrong, then he saw the harsh set of Ratchet's jaw.
Hesitantly, he touched Ratchet on the shoulder. Had he been Ratchet's superior, and Ratchet a Decepticon soldier, he would have told Ratchet to go take a few minutes and regroup. He would help no one if he made errors due to his emotional state. Soundwave thought he could finish up Silverbolt's repairs by himself.
Ratchet whacked his hand aside with a lightning fast motion, and fixed him with a dark scowl. Soundwave took a step backwards, wobbling as he lost his balance. Just as quickly, Ratchet grabbed his arm to steady him. As soon as he was not in danger of crashing to the ground, the medic released him, and then turned silently back to his work on Silverbolt's hip.
Soundwave forced himself to remain calm, and simply picked up a hand light and directed it at the area that Ratchet was working on. Ratchet, who had been efficient and professional earlier, was now surly and snarling, growling commands at his staff, barking orders at the soldiers who hurried in and out with supplies, and snapping irritably at his patients. Soundwave, who'd spent many millenia working directly under Megatron, kept waiting for a blow to be aimed his way, or for a tirade of verbal abuse he couldn't even understand. However, Ratchet never did anything worse than fix him with a dirty look when he was a bit slow to guess which tool Ratchet would need next. He never saw that smile again, but at least Ratchet accepted his assistance for the rest of a very long day.