Author's Note (update):
I started this story when I was very young. When I abandoned this a couple of years ago, I didn't intend to return. After War for Cybertron came out on Netflix, I was inspired to revisit Prime.
I will be editing my entire story for a second time before writing new chapters. There will be lots of rewrites so stay tuned! For the most part, the plot will stay the same and they'll be many similarities to the original.
P.S. I have decided to keep the noun "Gladiator" capitalized because I thought it was funny I did that years ago.
Frame: Body
Chassis: Chest
Servos: Hands
Pede/s: Foot/Feet
Audios: Ear
Optic: Eye
Optic ridge: Eyebrow
Denta: teeth
TIME
Nano-klik: Second
Klik: minute
Joor: Hour
Cycle: Day
Orn: 13 days
Vorn: roughly a year
Chapter 1
Soundwave didn't pay attention to newcomers.
It was simple; they either perished on their first orn or made it lucky to stay mixed within the lower ranks. It was nothing Soundwave concerned himself over. Being a high-ranker, the only time he ever interacted with them was in battle.
Though, recently other fighters had become bolder after his battle with Megatronus.
Soundwave had resided in the Gladitorial Pits for only a few vorns. In his short time as a fighter, he had never been given an official ranking; the rate of his progression surpassed the need for labels.
Until his fight with Megatronus, he hadn't ever lost a match. Since then, most bots have referred to Soundwave as "second in the Pits."
Megatronus had beaten him by little. It was enough to make him believe he was starting to drop his guard in the arena.
Though, that wasn't what bothered him the most; during the fight, Megatronus had audaciously deemed him an equal, someone considered "a worthy opponent."
Any bot would have been honored to be on the silver mech's good side.
Words meant nothing to Soundwave. There weren't many mechs one could trust. A part of him suspected it had only been an act. No one had ever gotten close to defeating Megatronus before him. He suspected that the silver bot was well aware of the fact.
Soundwave wasn't one to lower his guard too easily. Betrayal was a common occurrence. For now, both he and the other Gladiator would barely remain acquaintances.
Megatronus' actions were suspicious and for now, it was best to keep to himself.
His one rule was to observe and keep silent. Soundwave would remain alert; in his time residing in the Pits, he knew that talk circulated fast. There were plenty of rumors already.
Anything that happened in the arena was common knowledge.
He thought about the most recent event. It happened a few cycles ago, but the other mechs were still talking about it. The memory flashed in his processor.
He had been out in the stands watching two mechs clean the arena. The area had been emptied; not many Cybertronians stayed in the after-glow of the fight. Most of them relinquished once their source of entertainment disappeared. Soundwave found it distasteful.
He had stayed after the fight because his training had been completed for the cycle. He usually preferred to occupy his private quarters, but the room easily became monotonous. It was more stimulating to observe his surroundings.
Soundwave had settled for watching the working-class mechs clean up residue from the arena. Not particularly interesting. It rarely was. Most of the time, the mechs spoke about buying their freedom or overthrowing the owners; nothing Soundwave really paid attention to.
Disrupting the usual routine were pede-steps. The hard clanking and shuttering of floorboards became louder than the mechs' chatter. The steps reverberated across the whole arena, capturing the attention of the mechs cleaning it. Eventually, there was a loud thud.
The sudden disruption was enough to impel Soundwave to get a better view.
A dark-colored frame had appeared in the arena, seeming to fall from the upper stands. The femme landed on her knees, her cooling fans on high.
Not many femmes chose Kaon as a permanent place of residence. The majority of them were high-castes or workers that lived in the more luxurious part of the city. They weren't usually seen in these parts of Kaon and if they were, they were usually escorting mechs.
The dark painted femme in front of him was completely alone. No one seemed to come for her as she vented on the arena grounds. She kept her helm low to the ground. The mechs stopped what they were doing and stared at her, a morbid curiosity in their optics.
When the femme finally raised her helm, Soundwave saw her jolt up to her pedes. He studied her physical appearance. Despite being slightly stained, her armor shone more than the average bots. Her protoform was heavily exposed; she lacked proper armor. The femme's optics were also green, leading Soundwave to believe that this was a high caste bot.
She glanced at both mechs, quickly backing up. She visibly trembled under their leering gazes.
Soundwave noticed that she didn't immediately call for help.
"What's a femme doing in these Pits?" one of the mechs asked tauntingly, walking towards her. The femme continued to recoil. The mech's posture was akin to a predator stalking its prey.
"I don't know, but it sure is lucky of us. Primus has heard our prayers," the other mech chuckled. Soundwave watched intently. He didn't make any move to help.
He was a strong believer that Cybertronians should be able to defend themselves or perish. He especially wasn't going to aid a femme who likely sat comfortably in a higher caste. Not while he fought through every drop of spilled energon. It would be the stupidity of the femme that would be the end of her.
Soundwave had almost lost interest. As soon as he had made a move to leave, there was a loud noise of colliding metal.
He snapped his helm back and was less than surprised to see the femme with a weapon in her servos. No doubt it was from the Gladiator that had been terminated. The blue energon that stained the broken sword proved it.
"S-stay back!" commanded the femme. The two mechs laughed at her empty threat. The quivering femme held up the broken sword. It shook in her servos.
Soundwave had watched the events unfold. His processor had already made itself up; he would not help the femme.
"Put down the sword before you hurt yourself, femme," the mech laughed.
Her fear quickly morphed into indignation. She gulped and hovered it in the mech's direction. He laughed again and made a move to snatch away it. The femme quickly took it away before he could grasp it.
"Go ahead. Strike us," the mech dared, "Here, I'll turn my helm so you can strike me right here."
They sneered at her. Soundwave watched with a newfound interest.
The femme's startled expression slowly changed. Her grip visibly tightened on the sword, and her pedes stepped closer. With a fierce cry, the femme brung the sword down. It clashed with one of the mech's legs, digging into the metal. The mech cried out in pain as he fell to the arena floors. Improper sword usage caused the femme's servos to bleed as she gripped the weapon.
The other mech growled as he watched his comrade wither in pain. He roared at the femme, knocking the sword out of her servos. With a curled fist, he struck at her, making her fall on the floor. He heard her groan. Her armor was dented.
She looked up at the mech with hatred. It quickly turned into fear when the mech grabbed her neck and pulled her up. Sensitive wires were forcefully pulled. The femme found herself hanging from the servo of the larger mech.
Her servos clawed at the mech's fist as she attempting to break free.
"Now, now, femme. If you beg for forgiveness, I'll let you walk away with at least one of your servos." the mech wryly snarled. The femme choked out a simple response.
"Go rot in the Pits," she hoarsely cursed. This made the mech furious. Before he could tighten his grip on her, her servos stuck out on him. Through uncoordinated movements, the femmes sharp fingers dug into the mech's face. Soundwave noticed she was sporting claws.
The mech yelled out and stumbled back, clutching his helm. He dropped the femme was dropped to the floor. The commotion was enough to capture the attention of all nearby mechs.
As bots approached the scene, Soundwave was also drawn closer.
One of the main owners stepped forward, looking absolutely livid. Optics glared at the mech on the floor. The other bot attempted to straighten up. Meanwhile, the femme stood up, a mixture of anxiety and anger in her optics.
"What's going on here?" the owner asked loudly. His voice rang with impatience. The two mechs shifted under his glare.
"I-It was that femme! She came outta nowhere and started pickin' a fight!" one of the mechs lied. The owner looked over at her. She slowly inched away from all of the mech's stares. The owner directed his attention to the energon on her claws.
He roughly grabbed onto the femme's arm, pulling her to look straight into his optics. She yelped as terror overcame her green optics.
Soundwave watched as she held the owner's gaze.
No Gladiator spoke. They all waited in anticipation. Depending on the owner's mood, things could go bad for the femme.
Tension ran throughout the arena grounds.
The femme held herself in a way that made it look like she was trying not to shake. The owner's optics began to drift all over her frame, taking in every little detail. She stiffened under the leering gaze.
"You did this?" the owner asked, tightening his grip on the femme's arm. The dark-colored femme nervously nodded, her movements becoming frantic with every word spouted at her. "You come on to my arena and damage my property?"
The femme didn't respond. She averted her gaze elsewhere. The owner didn't seem at all satisfied with this. He used his other servo to grab her helm and directed it towards his optics.
"Look at me," he demanded coldly. Her optics glared. This didn't scare the owner. He chuckled wryly, "I can sense your fear, femme. You reek of it."
When the owner broke optic contact with her, he turned around to the Gladiators. He kept his grip. She stumbled as he brought her to face the other bots.
"What do you think we should do with her, mechs?" the owner asked, "We have a whole variety of possibilities." The arena reverberated with sly laughter. This caused the femme to shiver.
Soundwave knew most Gladiators craved a bot's touch. Most fighters didn't have enough currency to visit a brothel. If femmes ever willingly came to seek out a mech from the Pits, it was rare that they came to lesser-known Gladiators; most of them preferred mechs they knew could pay. Soundwave had a fair deal of femmes that sought him out, though he rarely accepted.
He had more self-control than the lust-hungry mechs around him. Soundwave wasn't desperate enough to completely lose himself in desire.
"Who knows, maybe this femme could be useful for me as well," the owner lowly laughed, the sound full of malice. With a new burst of strength, the femme violently jolted her arm away from the owner's grip.
She looked at the mechs with bewilderment. The femme proceeded to back up, only to be stopped by Gladiators coming from behind. She gasped and turned to the owner, her optics filled with raw emotion.
Soundwave knew that look. One filled with desperate self-preservation.
She fisted her servos. "I-I won't do it!" exclaimed the femme. She became more alert when the mechs pushed her in the circle. Her attempts were futile.
The owner gave a cruel laugh. "Welcome to Kaon's Pits, sweetspark!" he grinned, "Willingly or not, you'll eventually obey, femme."
"Call for help, I dare you. If someone comes to your aid, I'll let you go," he snarled, "Go on. Do it."
The femme began to shake again. She closed her optics and grit her denta. Her silence gave him the assumption that she was alone.
"I'd rather fight Gladiators and die than become an interface slave!" the femme proclaimed. She looked at her energon-stained claws and gave a forceful flick. A splash of blue fluids landed on the ground next to the owner's pede. The femme glared at him.
It was clear to Soundwave that beneath all that fear lied an inkling of pride.
The owner smirked, giving a knowing stare. Her confidence immediately died down once she saw this. She shrunk back, running into the chassis of other mechs. The owner's optics brightened.
"Interesting suggestion you made there," the owner smirked, "Maybe you can be of better use." He dug his servos into her arm again. The femme struggled but quickly stopped when she saw his glare.
"Starting today, you are a property of the Kaon Gladiator Pits, femme. Your training begins tomorrow. You have one orn until your first fight." He stopped for a moment and turned to the mechs. "Unless she fails, nobot is to harm my property unless it's inside the arena."
The femmebot stared at the owner in disbelief. "W-what...? I-I wasn't-" she closed her mouth.
"What? You weren't serious? Well, that's a shame because I've already made up my mind. You will work your way up the Gladiatorial ranks like the others and if you are to fail... well, my mechs here will gladly take what is left of you," he leered.
Soundwave stared for a few kliks longer before making a move to leave. However, the owner was quick to notice him. The lack of other high-rankers in the area singled him out.
"Soundwave, take the femme to the medic and register her in the system," the owner commanded, "RocketShield, dispose of the two useless cleaners. The rest of you, back to training!"
The mechs began dispersing while grumbling among themselves. He had already suspected word would spread.
Soundwave optics narrowed from behind his visor. He stood cold with indifference. The femme noticed all of the other mechs leave but him. She seemed to understand that he was Soundwave.
Without a word, the mech began walking, glancing slightly to see if the femme was following. She tentatively followed him, aware of the gazes she received. The skittish femme stumbled on her pedes before beginning to follow him. She took a deep vent and attempted to compose herself. Her trembling did not go unnoticed.
Soundwave thought her attempts to appear indifferent were fatuous. Despite it all, the femme kept her helm raised and pedes pointed forward. It was also clear that she was trying to avoid looking directly at him.
She constantly flinched at any slight movement. Her optics kept warily darting at her surroundings, looking at everything but him. She kept her distance, likely because she feared him.
Good.
The owner entrusted him to take the femme to the medic without issue; any low-ranking Gladiator would surely cause problems with her. Soundwave was displeased with where his curiosity had led him to.
He tried not to think too much of it. Once he was done leading the femme, she was no longer his problem. As the Pit's newest Gladiator, she had her own issues to worry about.
A femme Gladiator. The owners were desperate for credits it seemed.
He stopped in front of the medic's quarters, suddenly feeling metal clank on his back.
Soundwave reflexively turned around and watched the femme fall to the floor. She hesitantly raised her green optics. The mech stared down at her.
Soundwave didn't make any move to help her. He waited to see what she would do.
The dark-colored femme stood at his mercy. Her green optics stared fearfully up at him. She sat on the floor, her slender legs moving together and stiffening. Her chassis rose and fell as she grew anxious.
It was difficult to fathom her as a warrior among their faction. She was nothing more than an indulgent high-caste. The only aspect that made them alike was the survival instinct embedded in their coding. Even then, he was surprised she had survived up until this point.
It was completely up to him if he ended her life in that very klik. All it would take was one slice.
Soundwave slightly turned his helm towards the medic's room. The femme scrambled up, a blue blush staining her faceplates. She stubbornly looked away.
"S-sorry," she muttered. Soundwave didn't reply. He kept his helm turned towards the medic's room. The femme followed as he walked in. They were met by an old mech.
"Soundwave, what can I do for you?" the medic asked.
He pointed at the femme. She seemed to take the hint and hesitantly moved closer to the medic. The medic's faceplates soon relaxed as he came to the realization. "Ah yes, one of the owners just contacted me about the femme. Though, he didn't mention you were bringing her," the medic replied.
Soundwave stood silent.
This seemed fine for the medic as he motioned for the femme to come closer. "C'mon! I don't bite, they'll be plenty of that for the arenas," the medic chuckled. The young bot seemed to have stiffened visibly. She cautiously stepped towards the metal berth. The medic patted it and the femme soon climbed onto it. Her claws gripped the edges.
The medic scanned the femme. She struggled to appear unaffected. His proximity seemed to make her uncomfortable.
"So, how's a femme like you get caught in the Pits?" the medic asked casually.
Her optics hesitantly turned to him. She took a moment before answering. The medic raised an optic ridge to encourage her.
"I was... running," she sighed.
"From who?" the medic questioned shamelessly. No doubt the gossip would spread soon. Soundwave carefully listened to the femme's response.
"From bots who were trying to kill me," she replied.
"Who'd want to kill you?"
She took a klik to respond.
"My caste," the femme replied. The medic began wiping the energon from her claws to check for any wounds on her servos.
He raised an optic ridge. "Oh really? And why would they be trying to do that? No offense, but you don't look all that special." He began reassembling loose neck cables.
The femme's optics narrowed, "The less you know the better. The last thing I need is for them to come searching for me..."
She winced as he repaired her servos.
"I sure hope whatever you did to piss them off was worth it," the old bot chuckled, "Because you're never going to live in luxury ever again."
The medic had also assumed that the femme was from a higher caste. It wasn't difficult to see why. She was tall and her frame-type was lithe. Her armor was thin. Like many high caste members, she had green optics and an accent when she spoke.
The femmebot didn't say anything else about the matter. The medic didn't push further as he continued his work.
She looked up at Soundwave. When he caught her staring, she nervously looked down at her pedes.
"Refuel with whatever energon they give to you. Nothing major, but I suggest you recharge well before training," the medic prescribed. The femme nodded. Soundwave looked straight at her and motioned her to follow.
"Soundwave!" the medic called.
He stopped and turned his helm. The medic smirked and tossed him a red-colored cylinder. He caught it with ease.
"Thought you'd like to do the honors," the old bot stated.
Soundwave ignored the medic's comment and exited. The femme gave the doctor a few last glances. She stumbled before rushing to follow him.
They walked in silence. Her optics fixed themselves on Soundwave's back. He could easily feel her gaze.
"S-Soundwave..?" the femme asked. He remained silent.
"Where a-are we going?" she asked.
Soundwave didn't reply. He continued to walk, showing no signs that he had heard her.
The femme began walking faster so she stood next to him. As she opened her mouth, he snapped his helm at her. Soundwave stared intently, his stance conveying impatience.
She closed her mouth and slowed down to walk behind him.
The newcomer would soon realize that trying to make contact with Soundwave was futile. He excused her ignorance because she was inexperienced. Next time, he wouldn't be as generous.
Soundwave could feel her optics rest on him.
After a few kliks, they reached the registering areas. He was quick to start typing. The mech turned his helm in the femme's direction. She stared at him bemusedly.
He stepped back and pointed to the inscribers. The femme's green optics widened in realization.
She took his place began reading the screen. After a klik or two, she added her information into the system.
The only reason they bothered with the formality of registering was so that the owners could advertise fights and customers could bet on fighters.
His visor tilted from afar to watch what she typed. It wasn't much. She was a newcomer with little experience in combat. He couldn't make out her place of origin. The only piece of information he caught was her designation.
Her name was Darkstrike. He assumed it had something to do with her dark paint job.
The femme finished typing and an electronic card popped up. It was her room number and pin.
As she studied her registration card, one of Soundwave's tendrils quietly slithered towards her, the red cylinder glowing. Just as the femme turned around, he roughly stabbed the needle into an exposed neck cable.
She shrieked out in pain and fell to the ground. Soundwave stood emotionless at the femme's display. It was preferable to get it over with. Though, the indolent medic should've been the one performing this, not Soundwave.
The red cylinder quickly emptied in her system. Once it was empty, Soundwave removed it, disregarding the femme's groan. He retracted his tendril.
Soundwave observed the femme's closed optics. They were clenched shut. She blinked a few times before successfully opening them. She looked up, allowing him to get a clear view of her optics. They were no longer the same green hue as they were before.
Kaon's working caste optics were mainly red. Kaon was the industrial heart of Cybertron. The city held the majority of the low-caste population. To reflect their worker status, the majority of bot's optics were red— or converted red in the femme's case.
It was common for mechs to deviate from other factions into the warrior working caste. Similarly like the femme, many were banished and plenty escaped into the lawless city of Kaon. Soundwave had seen many bright-colored optics reduced to a deep red.
"W-what was that..?" she asked. The femme looked at her servos and arms, testing if they were functional. Soundwave didn't reply. He had his visor turned in her direction.
He looked into her optics. Her emotions were laid out like an open datapad. He could see fear, anger, and the tiny fraction of innocence laid in the femme's optics.
It irked Soundwave immensely to see innocence. The optics of someone who had never killed. It almost made him scoff. Innocence only served to be terminated.
She gasped.
"My optics...! They're... they're red!" she exclaimed. Soundwave made no comment. He was likely close enough for her to see her reflection on his visor.
Her posture slumped.
After that, he had guided the femme to her chambers. When she had entered her new room, Soundwave caught the slight gesture of her optics narrowing directly at him. The femme had studied him.
Now in the present, Soundwave berated himself for letting her consume his thoughts. He would leave her to her own miseries. The mech had yet to see if Darkstrike was a waste of a bot. She was in the Pits now, playing by the rules of a lower caste. Her golden shield of wealth had broken.
Newcomers usually didn't matter to him. Many of them failed in their first fight; he was sure that the same would happen with the femme. If she managed to last through training and her first battle, Soundwave would have to think twice before underestimating her again. Although, to him, it was unwise to think a femme– or any high caste would be capable of much.
So, he would observe. Soundwave would see how long she could survive.