The next orn, I explored campus for a while and then went to the Hall of Records to talk to Orion. I was worried he wouldn't be in his office, but he was there.

In fact, he had just finished what he'd been working on when I walked in the door.

"Hi, Soundwave," he said. "Umm… I was just about to leave."

"Oh."

"Yes. I have a break for half a joor. But that's alright. I'm only going to get some energon. You can come with me and I'll tell you what I've discovered about telepaths on the way." I found a lot of information.

I hesitated. He seemed to have decided we were friends. We were not, but I did need to know about telepaths and if I refused I'd probably hurt his feelings. I wouldn't care, except that I'd be able to feel it too.

"I mean, if you'd rather not, we can talk for a few breems in here." It shouldn't cut my break short by too much.

"That's fine. I ca-an come back later."

"No, really," he said. "Just… just come with me." It'll be nice to have someone to talk to on the way.

"Fine," I said. He heard the unhappy tone of my voice, but felt confident that I'd enjoy talking about telepaths with him.

He walked past me out of the office and I followed him.

"So," he said. "There really were telepaths before the Quintesson wars. I found quite a few historical files and Alpha Trion said I could show them to you." Except for the medical ones, of course. "There was one, though, that was the most useful. This is an excerpt from a textbook from before the wars." He pulled a datapad out of subspace and handed it to me. I read the contents as we walked. It was surprising how much the information in it reminded me of myself—past the point of coincidence for certain.

"So…" Orion said at length.

"Do you know if all of thi-is is true?"

He shrugged. "No. There are some other things I read that I was not sure about. Did you know there is a legend stating that it was a telepath who first discovered you could modify a language package to give to a symbiot?"

I shook my helm.

"Before that, they couldn't speak," Orion said. "According to the legend. I guess they could probably learn to communicate, and of course they could think, so a telepath would be able to understand them. I wonder if we thought they weren't sentient before telepaths…" That would have been awful for them.

I wanted to see those medical files he wasn't allowed to show me. We got out of the Hall of Records. Maybe I could get them from his processor if I asked the right questions.

"Wouldn't that be overwhelming, to hear everyone's thoughts?" I said. "They must have had… a range at which they could hear."

"Yes," Orion said. "And supposedly, they could hear others' thoughts through walls and reach out to hear mecha a long ways away too. I'm not sure how far they could go. I mean, I wouldn't want to go too far. Imagine having an entire city in your helm."

I didn't need to imagine it. I had, for an instant once, before passing out. And he wasn't imagining it half as painful as it was.

"I wonder how they did that. Co-ontrolled it, I mean."

"The same way we walk, I suspect," Orion said. "Or change the setting on our pain grid. It's a mental control."

So I… no, the telepaths of old really could make their ranges shrink. That made sense anyway. Your pain grid drifted back to the default setting if you left it alone, just like my range drifted back to its default.

So the question now was whether the medic who'd made me a telepath had modeled me after these. If so then I really needed to see those medical files.

"It'd be interesting to know the differences in their processors. There had to be a reason they could read minds."

"You aren't going into medical research, are you?" Ratchet said he was technology and computers.

"Communications technology and computer science," I said. "Telepathy is interesting. We do have internal comms, and that's not much different except that I suppose a telepa-ath would hear e-every-ything."

"Yes," Orion said. "I wonder if comms originated from attempts to imitate telepathy. It's… I'm not sure what to think about that the fact that there aren't any telepaths anymore. Alpha Trion said they died out during the Quintesson wars. Apparently they were especially susceptible to Quintesson reprogramming."

That was an unpleasant thought.

"I bet they mostly kept to their own, though. They had a city, like the seekers, that was just theirs."

"I wonder what made them di-ifferent," I said.

The medical files, which he'd skimmed but hadn't read, flashed through my processor. In the diagrams he had seen, I recognized some of the abnormalities that my medic had found.

Yes, this was what I was, or what I was modeled after.

We stopped at a little stall on the side of the street that was selling energon treats. The mech running it recognized Orion, and felt a brief flash of bemused exasperation.

"Good orn, Backlash," Orion said.

"The usual, I suppose? Are you sure you won't let me give you a discount?" he asked, pulling out a very large bag of energon treats from under the counter. I had picked up from his processor that he had been expecting Orion, and that this was a regular occurrence.

How could he possibly eat all of that?

"No, that's all right," Orion handed him a little data chip and he scanned it and handed it back. "Thank you."

He barely thought about it as he subspaced the energon treats and kept walking. I picked up that he intended to give them away for the most part.

"Apparently, a lot of them had symbiots," Orion said. "And they treated them like full mecha, which was against the culture of the time. I found an essay written by a telepath condemning the way most governments treated them. You have symbiots, right?"

I nodded.

"Do you feel like they're… the same level of sentience that we are?" They probably are. Or even if they aren't, they ought to have more rights. They're treated as property under our laws.

"They're certainly different," I said. "But y-yes, they're se-entient."

He nodded. "I thought so. I think we treat them better now than we did back then, but I am certain there's still room for improvement." I wonder at the morality of owning them… Not that it's wrong to take care of them, but… shouldn't they be free to make their own choices?

No. Ravage would do all right on his own, and Laserbeak as well, but most symbiots couldn't make good enough decisions to survive on their own in our world. I didn't want to argue with him about that, though, so I didn't say anything.

I haven't seen any of his symbiots, but from what Ratchet says, he treats them well. "How many do you have?"

I wasn't sure I liked the way this conversation was going. Not that I thought he'd make the connection and jump to any conclusion, but the fact was I did have a lot of symbiots, and I was a telepath and we'd been talking about telepaths and I didn't trust him. "Four."

"Four?" That's a lot. I wonder how he has time for them…

A youngling came into my range as he ran toward us.

"Orion!" he said.

"Hi, Rhombus," Orion smiled. "How are you doing?"

"Awesome," the youngling said. "The others and I played lobbing the other orn, and look." He held up his pede to show an impressive dent.

"Ow," Orion said. "What did you use for a ball?"

"Glory's symbiot."

Lots of fun for the symbiot.

"That doesn't sound very nice," Orion said. "Is the symbiot ok?"

"He's got a shell he can hide in. He makes a great ball. Did you bring treats?"

Orion pulled one from subspace and handed it to him. "If you see anyone else tell them I'll be at Mac's, and to wait outside, because I'll only be a breem or so."

"Sure," Rhombus said, but followed him, talking cheerfully. Two more came out of a side street, saw us, and rushed over. A dirty-looking youngling dragging a tiny green femme sparkling behind him reached us. The sparkling pulled free of the youngling's grasp and latched on to Orion's leg. Orion stopped and smiled slightly. "Hello, Turbine, Iridia." The little femme looked up at him, smiling widely.

So he was keeping Iacon's urchin population well-stocked in candy. That was… a little ridiculous. I wondered what he was trying to accomplish with that.

"How are you two?" he asked.

I'm sick, but Iridia's ok. The youngling thought. "We're good, Mr. Orion," he said.

"How's your femme creator. Doing better?"

The youngling nodded, then shuddered and his engine coughed a few times. Orion handed them both energon treats, and then kept walking. The little femme stoood on his pede, clinging to his leg as he walked, and thoroughly enjoying herself.

A fledgling saw him from across the street and turned and ran in the other direction to go tell others.

"Where did you sa-ay we were going?" I asked.

"Oh. Maccadams," Orion said.

I hesitated. That place… if rumors were true, it was not the sort of place I'd expect someone like Orion go on his work break.

"Oh," he said, realizing what I must be thinking. "It's not… I mean, yeah it's kind of a shady place. I forget that sometimes. It's just I know the owner."

He knew the owner? Who in Primus's name was this mech?

"Yeah," Orion said. Mac's great… I think I'm freaking Soundwave out, though. "Don't worry. He's really nice."

The number of sparklings trailing after us increased. Orion called them all by designation and gave them all energon treats. In the end, I couldn't find any self-interested motivations in him. No need to be liked, or desire for anyone else to think he was a good person. Just pleasure at making them happy and a feeling of responsibility toward them because most of them had no one to take care of them. There was also regret—regret that he couldn't do more, and that the government didn't do more.

It was frustrating. I almost couldn't find any sort of flaw in his spark and that, wrong as it sounds, annoyed me.

"So," Orion said when he had amassed a following of about fifteen. "This is Soundwave. We were just talking about telepaths. Do any of you know what telepaths are?"

None of them did.

Orion started explaining it to them. It was a difficult concept for some of the younger ones, but the older ones were soon asking all sorts of questions about mind-reading. I couldn't help but be amused.

Eventually we got to Maccadam's Oilhouse and Orion stopped. "Ok, everyone, I have to go in."

"Aw…"

"But I still want to know…"

"Come play with us, Orion!"

The little green femme on his pede clutched his leg and started to cry—though she wasn't particularly sad. It was just a tactic to try and get him to do what she wanted.

"Hey," he said. "Don't do that Iridia, I'll come back out soon." He reached down and gently pried her off his leg so he could set her on the ground. "I'll just be a breem, ok?"

He waved me forward and I followed him.

It was too crowded inside, or at least too crowded for me. It was the middle of the on-cycle so it was actually fairly empty but over-energized mechs made me feel dizzy I knew I'd get a processor ache if I was here more than ten breems.

Orion led me up to the bar. The bartender smiled at him. "Good orn, Orion."

"Is Mac in?"

"Yes, go on through the back."

"Thank you," Orion said, and ducked through the door that led behind the bar. He gestured for me to follow him and we went past the bartender and through another door in the back. It led to a short hallway with three doors. Orion knocked on one, waited for a "Come in" from the other side, and pushed it open. It swung outward instead of sliding back into the wall, which was a little unusual.

Primus, I was about to meet Maccadam.

What Searchlight wouldn't have given.

He'd have loved this place. The noise, the friendly atmosphere, the disregard for social class or any kind of faction. He'd been the one to tell me about Maccadam's in the first place. If I'd been here with him… but I wasn't. I was here with Orion Pax, the archivist who somehow seemed to know all kinds of important mecha despite his relatively mundane profession and unimportance.

We went in.

And for the second time, I realized I was in definite range of someone whose processor I couldn't hear.

I stiffened and tried to think of an excuse to leave, but the mech sitting behind the desk in the room smiled and waved us forward and so I reluctantly followed.

"Orion," he said. "And friend. How have you been?"

"Quite well," Orion said. Soundwave looks intimidated. I should have explained more. Mac's really nice.

"Haven't died of boredom yet in that rusty old library?"

Orion shook his helm.

"Sit down and introduce me to whoever this is."

Orion dragged a few chairs over from the wall and sat. "This is Soundwave. He's a close friend of Ratchet's. You remember Ratchet?"

"Yep," Maccadam said. "Didn't it take you three joors to get him to come in here?"

Orion remembered standing outside while Ratchet yelled at him about going to shady bars. "Yeah," he said.

"Bad for business, that," Maccadam said, but he was smiling. "So is your little horde of sparklings. Are they standing out in front of my establishment again?"

Orion shrugged sheepishly. Yes?

Maccadam shook his helm. "You're going to go broke you know, buying them things all the time. Trion's not paying you that much, is he?"

"Well…" Orion said, "I don't have much else to spend credit on. I don't need a bigger apartment, and I get paid to be a clerk, which is my only hobby. I'm comfortable where I am."

"Don't get too comfortable," Maccadam said. "The world has a way of kicking you out in the street once in a while."

Orion shrugged.

"Here," Maccadam pulled a cube of energon out of subspace with a flourish and handed it across the desk to Orion. "Soundwave, you want anything?"

"No thanks," I said.

"You sure? I've got essentially every type of fuel in existence."

"I'm o-ok."

Maccadam shrugged. I couldn't tell if I'd offended him or not, or if he'd noticed my stutter. I needed to get out of here.

"So," he said, looking at Orion again. "How's the old librarian?"

"Alpha Trion?" Orion asked. "He's all right. He's really frustrated with the Council. But…"

"Huh," Maccadam said. "Tell him he'd better get them straightened out quick. I had enforcers here the other orn trying to arrest one of my patrons. Everyone knows I won't stand for that."

"He's trying," Orion said.

"I bet you're covering for most of his work at the archives, then."

Orion shrugged.

"Should tell him I said to give you a raise. No, don't tell him I said anything, he'll think I'm using you to spy on him."

Orion smiled. Maccadam kind of is using me to spy on him.

"You should drag him down here sometime. I haven't seen his rusty old faceplate since he introduced me to you."

Orion shrugged. "Oh, by the way, do you know anything about telepaths?"

Maccadam looked openly surprised. "Telepaths?"

"Yes. Soundwave's researching them." He should probably know something. If he really is one of the thirteen, he must have been there before the wars.

Wait, what? One of the thirteen?

"Telepaths aren't around anymore. I guess they must have been kind of interesting. Kept to themselves, mostly, or so I've heard. I don't think they liked anymech else, and other mechs didn't like them either. But I don't know, mechling. Most of the history before the Quintesson wars was lost."

Actually, it was mostly hidden. It's still hidden in the archives I just… I guess he can't speak openly when I've got someone else with me.

Speak openly? Who were these mecha?

"If you really wanted to know about that sort of thing," Maccadam looked at me. "I'd try asking Trion. He's the expert on history, and the like. Just loves to talk about it too. If you get him going, he'll blather on about pretty much anything. Don't tell him I said that. Don't tell anymech else either." Maccadam smiled. "It's old Trion's weakness. Perfect way to distract him is ask him a history question."

Especially something from the Covenant, Orion thought.

"So, Soundwave, you're a friend of that high-strung little medical student, no? Do you go to the Academy?"

I nodded.

"Studying…"

"Communications technology and co-o-omputer science."

"So what's so interesting about telepaths? If you're trying to bring their abilities back somehow, I'd suggest you don't. I'm pretty sure the Council would be ecstatic, but they'd use them to spy on everyone and that… well, let's just say we don't want that."

"I'm no-ot trying to make them," I said, and was frustrated that I couldn't tell if he believed me.

Silence stretched out for an astrosecond and Maccadam narrowed his optics, frowning at me.

"So," Orion said. "How are you doing?"

"Nothing new," Maccadam said. "Except for those enforcers. But maybe that was just some sort of fluke. They won't be back in any case."

"Did you kick them out?"

"What do you think?"

"Uh… what if they try to shut you down?"

Maccadam snorted. "They're not going to try to shut me down. Do you know the pit that would raise? This place has been here for centivorns. Shut me down. As if."

Orion was comforted, but I wasn't so sure. The Council got what they wanted. If they wanted to shut him down, they probably could.

"Well, I should get back to work," Orion said. "Thanks so much for the energon, and it was good to see you."

Maccadam nodded. "Tell Trion to get his stuffy old aft down here once in a while. You can only listen to so many mechs complaining about femmes and their love life before you start longing for some molecular physics and astronomy and the like."

"Ok," Orion said. "Good to see you."

"You too. And good to meet you, Soundwave. Good luck with the upcoming term."

"Thanks."

Orion and I got up and left.

"Sorry," Orion said. "I guess I should have warned you I was going so far from the Hall of Records."

"That's all ri-ight."

"Mac's really nice. He's one of Alpha Trion's friends, in case you didn't pick up on that." I'm pretty sure he's actually Alchemist. At least, that's what the rumors say, and Alpha Trion's definitely the real Alpha Trion.

That wasn't possible… was it? I'd heard rumors that Maccadam was one of the original thirteen, but rumors that sensational were usually wrong. Then again, both Maccadam and Alpha Trion were immune to my mind-reading, so I was a little more inclined to believe there was something special about them.

We left the building. The crowd of sparklings had doubled in size by then and they all rushed Orion, begging for candy and for him to come play with them.

"I'm going to go back," I said. He heard me over the chatter and nodded. I walked away, not entirely sure how to feel about this whole orn.


I found my way back to campus. I'd worked up a bit of a processor ache by then from the crowds, but it was mild. Perceptor wasn't at home so I sat in my room with my symbiots. Rumble and Frenzy had found a hole behind the desk that they could fit through. Apparently, the wall was hollow, which I found kind of strange. I'd have to ask Perceptor about it at some point.

I also needed to talk to him about telepaths. Maybe he could convince Alpha Trion to let me see the medical files about them. If anything could teach me how to control my range, it was those files.

But he didn't come back until late, so I decided I'd wait. And maybe I could figure it out on my own. The less Alpha Trion knew about me, the more comfortable I'd be. Of course, he could know everything about me already and I wouldn't be able to tell. That thought kept me up late, worrying.

I talked to Perceptor the next orn about what Orion had been able to tell me, though I left out that there had been more that just wasn't available. In order to get those files, Perceptor would probably have to explain to Alpha Trion about me, and I'd decided I didn't want to let the creepy old archivist in on the secret unless I absolutely had to. There would be no way for me to tell if he planned on keeping it a secret.

Fortunately, Perceptor didn't even think about the possibility of there being useful files in the archives. He'd probably enjoy himself more trying to figure out the problem on his own.

Then I breached the subject of the hollow walls.

"Oh," he said. "The walls are hollow?" I didn't know that.

"Yes."

There are some secret ways into and out of the basement, but I didn't know there were hollow walls too. "That's interesting. What are the spatial dimensions of the hollow area?"

"I can let Rumble and Frenzy explo-ore," I said, though I wasn't so sure I liked that idea.

I wonder if more of the walls are hollow, and if there are passages to every room. I'll have to find out sometime. I finished up preparing for classes last orn, I have time… "Now I'm curious. Would you like to help me map the house and look for hollow walls and secret passages?"

I shrugged. Why not?

"Your symbiots can participate. I'm sure they would enjoy that."

I nodded again, and went to get them.

Rumble and Frenzy took a camera into the wall and measured the space there, then went exploring. Laserbeak flew from room to room, making sure the length of the hallway matched up with the dimensions of the rooms. Ravage went with Perceptor and I to systematically check each room, looking for secret passages.

By the end of the orn, we'd found several, and Perceptor had enough information to build a 3D map of the house. He was certain we hadn't found everything, though. We'd have to keep looking some other time. As it was, classes started the next orn, so we'd both be busy for a while. I was interested to see what would be the same about the Academy and what would be different.


The next orn, I got up after a mostly sleepless off-cycle. I told Rumble and Frenzy on no uncertain terms that they weren't allowed to go into the wall while I was gone. They didn't intend to listen to me, but Ravage would keep them in line and I'd probably have time later to patch up that hole in the back of the desk so they couldn't crawl through it.

And then I went to class.

Over the next few decaorns I came to find that the Academy was very different from secondary school. For one thing, I was almost always exclusively around other mecha who were in engineering, technical science, or computer science. I never saw Ratchet unless we planned to meet, because the medical complex was on the other side of campus. The Academy was really more like several academies, each one with its own specialty.

I did see Wheeljack now and then, and occasionally Shockwave, though he was always busy. He was majoring in two separate fields—engineering as well as political science.

It was more crowded than the school in Kalis, and even with my smaller range, sometimes I picked up a processor ache. Walking between classes was the worst. And even though I was among other scientists, it seemed like the older everyone got, the more things I overheard that I just kind of wanted to forget. We needed to figure out how to control my range and figure it out quickly or I'd get sick again.

And they had this horrible place for taking tests where the students around you would be taking different tests from the one you were taking. I could never have gone to this school without a teacher who knew about my abilities. Perceptor and I were working on the problem of my range but we weren't making much headway. About four decaorns into the term, I got a message from Breeze.

[Hey, Soundwave, Ratchet. Sometime when you've got an orn off of school we should get together. Talk about it and let me know when there's a time that will work. It's been ages since I've seen either of you. So happy to hear you're going to the Academy, by the way, Soundwave.]

I wondered how she'd heard that. Probably from Ratchet.

I let Ratchet answer and tell her that yes, we did have an orn off school in just half a decaorn.

[Ok], she replied [I'm of work all decaorn so I can come up. We should met in Iacon, since both of you are there. Keepsake and Cam have told me I can come visit them any time. I'll ask them if that orn works and we should all meet up then. Soundwave, you should bring the twins and the others.]

Keepsake and Cam.

I hadn't talked to them since Searchlight's funeral.

I glanced up at my teacher, then down again at my datapad. I wished I had an excuse not to go. Maybe I could come up with one by then. I hadn't talked much to Breeze either. I didn't want to.

[Ok] Ratchet said.

[Don't bring your homework]

[Why not?]

[Oh, fine, bring your homework. Hey, Soundwave, you are getting this, aren't you?]

[He's probably in class, paying attention, which is what I should be doing.]

[Ok, well, let me know if you can come when you read this, 'Wave. If you can't, we'll come visit you sometime.]

[In other words,] Ratchet added. [You'd better come]

I waited a few breems, then typed reluctantly. [I can come.]

KI put the datapad away. It was only a few astroseconds before Breeze responded. [Yay! Hi, Soundwave.]

I put the datapad away.


The orn came very quickly. All of my symbiots were excited, especially Rumble and Frenzy, though Rumble would never admit it. They woke me up early, and so I had a couple of joors before Ratchet and I were going to meet up at the mass transit station. Keepsake and Cam lived in an outer sector of Iacon. Breeze would be Groundbridging in from Praxus.

I gave my symbiots energon, but didn't feel like taking any myself. Ravage noticed and hopped up onto my shoulders to wrap himself comfortingly around my neck.

"It'll be ok," he purred. "Why are you worried?"

I shrugged, and reached up to stroke the plating behind his audios. I remembered a time when I had been small enough that him sitting on my shoulders had nearly been enough to overbalance me. I had changed, but he hadn't. That was one reason I loved symbiots.

"Why are you worried?" Ravage asked again.

"I should have been able to save hi-im," I replied quietly. "How can I… I can't face them. I don't even kno-ow why they want me to come."

Oh, please, Laserbeak thought. Stop moping. They're your friends. If they didn't still want to be friends, then that would be their problem.

Ravage just pressed his helm against my hand. I miss Searchlight too.

He would have wanted me to go. He would have gotten fed up with my moping and dragged me out to Keepsake and Cam's house.

So eventually I got up and left Perceptor's house. They all climbed onto me. I was a pretty strange sight carrying them all, and mecha noticed and watched us wherever we went, but I didn't care. Frenzy rode on my helm, Ravage on my shoulders, Rumble, on Ravage, and Laserbeak clinging to my back.

"Are we going on a mass transit?" Frenzy asked. Please, please, please, please…

"Yes."

"Yaaaay!" Those are so fun. You can lean really far out the window and feel the wind rushing by and if you're standing up when the transit turns, you can try to keep your balance…

And if he was leaning out the window when the transit turned, I was going to be one symbiot short.

We would have to discuss that once we got on.

Ratchet showed up just in time to come with me and buy a ticket. The crowd was pretty bad, because students were leaving for the orn, but it was all right. I didn't mind so much.

Hello, Soundwave, Ratchet thought. I haven't seen you much. Are you still ignoring everyone?

He was one to talk.

"Ratchet!" Ravage jumped off of my shoulders, sending Rumble flying. I caught Rumble as my cat knocked Ratchet over.

"Get off!" Ratchet snarled, shoving Ravage away and scrambling to his pedes. I'm in a fragging transit station, can this slagging cat ever just leave me alone?

Ravage was neither offended nor deterred. He leaped up onto Ratchet's shoulders, purring.

It had been a long time, I realized, since Ravage had seen his favorite pouncing toy.

Ratchet tried to be angry, but it didn't work, so he just huffed an amused sigh and we got in line to buy tickets.

"Hey, Ravage," Rumble said. "Mind giving a little warning before you slagging toss me off of you? I could have died."

Ravage smiled toothily. "Sorry Rumble," he said, not even trying to sound sincere.

We got tickets and boarded the mass transit. Frenzy leaped off of my helm and over to sit in the window, dangling his pedes over the side. Laserbeak clung to the back of the seat in between Ratchet and I and Ravage curled up in the seat itself, prepared for a nap.

When the mass transit started moving, I had to reach out and grab Frenzy so he wouldn't fall out.

"You need to stay in the transit," I warned him. "Do not stick any part of you out the window or you'll sit o-on my shoulder for the rest of the tri-ip."

"Fine," Frenzy said. But I'm not just sitting around. He jumped up onto my shoulder where Rumble was and slapped him in the faceplate. "Tag you're it!" He shouted and jumped off of my shoulders.

They ran around under the seats for a while, playing tag. Frenzy understood that game pretty well. He still had trouble with hide and seek, though.

Ratchet did homework so we didn't talk much. The trip wasn't nearly as long as the trip from Kalis to Searchlight's house. I had to apologize to a few people for the twins getting under their pedes, but that was inevitable. I should probably work on their public etiquette, but I didn't really think it was necessary. They knew how to behave. If a situation ever came up when I needed them to do so, I was relatively sure they wouldn't let me down. They did listen to me, as much as they listened to anyone.

The transit pulled to a stop in the station and the twins came back. All of my symbiots climbed onto me and we walked out into the station. There was a moment where I couldn't move, like I was frozen in the past. This place was too full of memories.

"Well," Ratchet said. Here we go. I haven't seen Breeze for a long time. Not as long as you, though, Soundwave.

He was really not happy with me for skipping a term of school, was he? And he was nervous too, about talking to Keepsake and Cam. It had been a while for both of us, and neither had really stayed in touch like we ought to have.

We left the station. Their house was only a short walk, so we didn't have much time to talk, not that we would have anyway. Breeze and Searchlight had facilitated most of the conversation among the four of us.

We stopped in front of their door. The station, the walk, the door… I did not want to be brought back here to this place without Searchlight.

We stood in front of the door for a while. Are you going to request entry?

I shook my helm.

Fine then. Ratchet approached the door, and knocked, remembering that the entry request button was broken.

Breeze's processor felt much the same as ever as she came to answer the door. It slid open and she threw herself at Ratchet and wrapped her arms around him. "Ratch! I haven't seen you for ages! How are you?"

Ratchet had momentarily frozen and could only splutter at her to get off. She laughed and let go of him. I guess I shouldn't surprise him like that. It's so funny how he reacts to things, though... but that's unkind...

"You big, mean bully," I said quietly.

Breeze pushed past Ratchet and smiled up at my screen. How are you doing? Are you ok? She reached out and took one of my hands in both of hers. "It's so good to see you." She couldn't keep a deep swelling of sadness from washing over her, but she smiled even wider and embraced me as well. I really missed talking to you. "Both of you come in," she said, and ushered us into the house. Ravage leaped off of my shoulders and went to say hi to Keepsake. They were waiting in the main room where they'd been talking to Breeze when we had shown up. Keepsake stood and crossed the room to embrace us.

"Oh, it's so good to see you. How has school been?" We only heard that Soundwave had been avoiding everyone else. I was worried he wouldn't come.

"Soundwave, Ratchet." Cam nodded to both of us. He too was relieved that I had come. They'd gotten together before once or twice, and I had refused to show up.

Searchlight wouldn't have been happy with me for that.

Keepsake brought me over to sit on the bench. The twins hopped off and went to climb onto Breeze's lap.

"So," Keepsake said. "How have you been? How is the term going for you? Breeze was just telling us about her work. Ratchet, how is school coming?"

"All right," Ratchet said. "I'm busy studying a lot. I really wish we didn't have to do practical medicine, since I'm only going into research, though." The practical exams are nightmares. They have these lifelike drones you have to repair while they watch and if you diagnose anything wrong or let them offline you fail and have to try again and again. You never know what they're going to throw at you or how bad it's going to be… "But I'm doing fine."

"Soundwave?"

I shrugged.

"Are you settling in well? It's probably a difficult transition."

"I'm friends with o-one of the professors," I said. "A-and I've got my symbiots, so…"

Oh, Soundwave, Breeze slumped a little. Your stutter.

I looked away.

Has it ever really gone away since Searchlight?

I shook my helm slightly.

I should ask him if he's made any friends in his classes… but I shouldn't, Keepsake thought. Though he ought to be making some, or at least spending time with Breeze and Ratchet.

I ought to. But I didn't want to. The reason the three of us were friends was dead.

I had missed Breeze, though.

We chatted for a while, and then the twins got restless and knocked something over so we decided to go outside. We left Keepsake and Cam back at their apartment and the three of us and my symbiots walked to the nearest park.

There was a lot of thinking on the way there, but not a lot of talking. It was Ratchet who eventually broke the silence.

"So," he said. "How about you, Breeze?"

"Hmm? How have I been? I've been doing pretty well. I'm still just an apprentice, but my mentor says I'm going to be a great psychiatrist some orn." She smiled. "Not that I can really trust what he's saying. He's a psychiatrist, after all." Of course I trust him. He's a good mech and a good teacher. "He's really good, though. He trained under Rung."

"Who?" Ratchet demanded.

"What do you mean who, Mr. knows-everything? Rung's one of the greatest philosophers and psychiatrists online. And I met him once, at a convention."

"Huh," Ratchet said. "A famous philosopher?" There's no such thing.

"It is a science."

"Psychology, yes. Philosophy, no."

Breeze shook her helm, trying to decide whether to be amused or annoyed.

We got to the park and let the symbiots run loose. A group of younglings were playing disc in a nearby field.

Breeze watched them for a few moments, "You know," she said. "We can do this. We can get together and talk and spend time here, but it will never be the same."

Ratchet crossed his arms and nodded solemnly. "It's different."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't stay in touch," Breeze said. "It's what he would have wanted, after all. I'm sorry I haven't been better about that." Of course, all of us were grieving. We needed time and space. But we also need each other. He would have wanted me to make sure Soundwave didn't disappear into himself, and make sure Ratchet didn't study himself to death.

And he would have wanted us to make sure she was all right. Of course, she had been hanging out with a bunch of psychiatrists. She was probably in better mental and emotional shape than Ratchet, and she was certainly doing better than I was.

"We're all going different directions," Ratchet said. It's going to be hard to stay in touch.

"We would be going in different directions anyway," Breeze said.

But we would have had Searchlight to keep us together. It went without saying and always had that he was the catalyst to our friendship. Without it, was there reason to try?

"Look," Breeze said. "We can at least make some sort of attempt, because Searchlight would have wanted it. You two are still my best friends. Maybe that's just because you were Searchlight's friends, but that doesn't matter. We spent thousands of orns in Searchlight's room talking and laughing and arguing and just because he's not here anymore doesn't mean we should forget about that."

I looked away.

"Don't act like he never existed, all right?" Breeze said. "Please, both of you, don't try to pretend he never existed…" Primus, talking about this is hard. How long is it going to hurt?

He existed, Ratchet looked out at the group of younglings playing disc. He could have done so much more, but he had to go and get killed. Why didn't I just get up and do something? I was there, I could have stopped him and then it never would have happened.

So I wasn't the only one who felt like it was my fault. "Bree-eeze?"

"Soundwave, we fixed your stutter."

I shrugged.

"I know we did. I guess… I guess there was a possibility that it would come back, but…"

I shrugged again. "In any case, we're sorry."

She frowned at me. Who's sorry? For what?

"Ratchet and I. We're sorry we didn't try harder. Searchlight would still be here if we had…"

Oh, no, you don't. "Soundwave," She reached out and touched my arm. "Have you…" Have you been blaming yourself for what happened?

I looked down and didn't answer.

"He's right," Ratchet said. "I could have stopped him. We could have taken his arrest more seriously." Soundwave could have gone to get him out just joors earlier…

"Both of you." She crossed her arms. "You couldn't have…"

"Don't try to tell us we're wrong," Ratchet glared at her. "You know we're not. Searchlight's dead because…" Because we weren't good enough friends. We were never good enough friends.

"No," Breeze said. "That's ridiculous. Grieving has to take its course, and it's not wrong to be sad about what happened, but if you spend your whole life beating yourselves up for mistakes you can't fix then you're not going to get anywhere." I will never stop missing him, but I can move on at the same time. He would want me to move on. "Maybe you could have saved him, maybe you couldn't," she said. "But it happened and you did your best and he was…" she smiled and shook her helm. He was bound to get himself killed doing some fool thing anyway… we always used to say that, but he kept pulling through somehow. He seemed immortal. I wouldn't be surprised if he just walked into my office one orn… I'd better not daydream like that. It's not going to happen.

No it wasn't. And she was right about blaming ourselves, but part of me, a selfish part, was afraid of how lonely she was. My guilt, in a way, kept me from missing him. If it was my fault he was dead, then I didn't deserve to miss him.

We all watched the younglings play the game of disc. When they were done, we went to round up my symbiots and headed back to Keepsake and Cam's house.

"So," Ratchet said. "I do have a lot of homework.

"Of course you do," Breeze said. "Honestly, I'm not sure where you manage to find all that homework. But you two have less of an excuse than I do, and you should come out here once in a while. Keepsake and Cam lost… they lost their creation and that's got to be so much harder for them than it was for any of us. They'd love it if you two visited once in a while. Especially you, Soundwave. They almost thought of you as theirs too. You know they did.

I nodded.

I would think they wouldn't want to be reminded, Ratchet thought.

No. They, like Breeze, did not want anyone pretending Searchlight hadn't existed. I didn't want that either, did I? And yet here I was, pretending he had never drawn the three of us together and convinced us to be friends.

"Breeze is right," I said as we neared the house. "We should stay in touch. And we sho-ouldn't forget."

Breeze looked down and smiled. Thank you. Also you and I need to work on your stutter some more. We'll set up a time that I can call you.

"I'm fine."

Don't even try that on me, Soundwave. I know you're not fine. She went up to the front door and put in the code to open it. We all filed back in.

We stayed for a few joors after that. Keepsake and Cam had a lot of questions for us about school and work. We even talked a little about Searchlight near the end, and it hurt, but it was good too because we were remembering him.

Then, eventually, Ratchet's homework won out and we got up to leave. Keepsake walked us to the front door.

"Both of you are welcome here whenever you like," she said, but she was mostly thinking about me. "Soundwave, the symbiots at the shelter miss you."

I looked down. I didn't think I could go back there. Of course, I hadn't thought I could come here either.

"Take care," Keepsake said. "Live, learn, make friends…" Live for my creation, Soundwave... He truly was the best friend Searchlight ever had…

On the transit ride back up to the center of Iacon, I thought about what Breeze had said, about how blaming yourself never got you anywhere.

Searchlight was dead. He had deserved better friends, but he had chosen us. Perhaps he had chosen us because we didn't have a prayer of making any friends otherwise. To throw that away and hide from the rest of the world would be to dishonor his memory. He had fought for us. If I barricaded myself in my room and refused to make any friends, then I was letting him lose that fight. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps since he was dead, it didn't matter anymore. But I could try—I would try—not to let him down again.