A/N: Thank you for all feedback, and to those asking if I'm okay. It's hard to write long chapters and edit them; I might reduce them slightly shorter in the future, but also in a way that doesn't make the story seem rushed.
Some questions regarding last chapter:
-I can confirm that Darkstrike was outclassed by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. As original G1 characters and canon gladiators, I felt like they deserved their credit's due. (Also, as much as she improved, an orn isn't enough time for Darkstrike to learn everything.)
-Certain lore I write can be different than TFP: Soundwave's origin, reason he wears his visor, etc.
-I admit I have a flare for drama, and I've changed the genre to appropriately reflect my story.
-I use the terms glossa and tongue are used interchangeably.
Notice: I have changed the rating of the story to "M" for graphic violence and future erotic scenes.
Again, thank you for all the feedback, as well as the follows on Instagram and Tumblr! Chapter 13 is finished and will be uploaded tomorrow at 5 pm est.
Chapter 12
Soundwave looked down at Darkstrike's sleeping form.
She slept with a sense of serenity, unbothered by anything— including himself. But despite the tension they had just experienced, her weariness seemed to have weighed over all else.
She would likely recharge through the whole night; her wounds were extensive, and she'd had almost an entire cube of high grade.
Looking at her frame closely, he could see many newly formed scars jutting in. There were smudges of energon where he had mended, and judging by how she hitched, it appeared that moving caused her pain.
And yet, she slept with a peaceful look on her face.
Darkstrike didn't seem concerned with the morality of her recent battle. She'd only cared about victory and the progression of her skills. Soundwave could see that fighting was slowly becoming second nature to her.
He stared at the gash on her spine, optics trailing down her dark wings and paying mind to all the details. He stopped at the initials engraved on the tip.
Immediately seeing it, he felt a negative emotion stir inside of him. It was a careless mistake, and he had prepared her for much worse.
Soundwave disapproved of her using low methods, but he excused it because of her circumstance. He almost wanted to further her training to prevent her from resorting to such… tactics.
He furrowed his optic ridges, suddenly reminded of the finale of her fight.
Shaking his helm, he attempted not to dwell on the memory. Thinking about it only made him feel more frustrated.
Soundwave kept his gaze on her.
She lay on her side, facing away from him.
He could still see part of her face. The blush on her cheeks hadn't entirely disappeared.
Eventually, his stare shifted from observatory to something else…
Lust.
It was an intense sensation, powerful enough to make the most willed mech lose control.
It had only been 12 kliks since Darkstrike had fallen asleep.
He could still feel her taste on his lips.
Soundwave hadn't expected her to be so bold, but he should've anticipated it given the high grade. Instead of stopping it like he usually did, he'd let down a layer of defense and leaned forward.
Perhaps the energon had influenced him as well.
It was a strange feeling— encompassing her lips with his as a show of lust. Though he'd never practiced it before, he found the action pleasurable.
Despite her impatience, she allowed him to get used to it and to explore all he wanted. What followed after had been moments of extreme want surging between them.
Darkstrike was very responsive to his advances, and it only made him want more.
His fingers twitched as he thought of his immediate satisfaction in freely touching her body.
Darkstrike stirred, shifting her frame to lay on her front.
The movement snapped him out of his daze.
He stared at her, guard raised.
Based on her steady breathing and relaxed expression, she appeared to remain in a deep sleep.
Soundwave offhandedly wondered what she dreamt.
As of late, he hadn't wandered into her mind, but that was for the better. He didn't need to think about her constantly; he already knew the amount he was doing now was unnatural.
It was undeniable that this was becoming more than a simple source of entertainment.
In retrospect, he realized that everything happening resulted from his decisions. Soundwave had accepted her as his assistant and even volunteered to be her mentor. He had unintentionally allowed her to get close to him.
Soundwave clenched his fingers and frowned.
He didn't want to rationalize this infatuation. He didn't want to give the femme even the slightest inch.
The mech didn't want to waste time concerning this.
He'd lived fine all his life, accepting simplistic emotions.
He knew neutrality, anger, fear, desire. Only recently had his lust begun to grow out of his control. His feelings reached beyond libido, and he couldn't quite identify them.
All of it was entirely unwelcome.
Soundwave felt frustrated that he had almost given in.
He used to think he wouldn't hesitate to kill Darkstrike if she became an obstacle, but now he needed to keep reassuring himself that it was still the case.
It was necessary to remain unwavering; he didn't want her to disrupt his order—or be influenced by petty emotions.
The mech stood up, feeling the need to put as much distance as he could between them.
Soundwave took a seat at his workspace and leaned back on the chair.
Immediately, he squinted at the lights. They were bright and overbearing— usually unnoticeable but other times glaringly obvious.
He glanced at Darkstrike before turning back to his workspace. The mech picked a few tools to prepare for a few joors of work. It would be an adequate distraction to clear his processor.
As he finished preparing, he looked over to the side. His visor lay at the edge of the table.
Soundwave grabbed it and observed it closely.
He saw his reflection.
He couldn't remember the last time he had removed his mask in front of another bot— likely since his miner cycles. Only during their short breaks were they allowed to remove them to consume energon.
It had been vorns since.
He'd grown accustomed to the visor; it gave him the silence of his thoughts and allowed him to separate himself from the world.
Without it, everything felt intensified. The lights were harsh on his optics. Sounds around him were amplified and distracting. The visor controls were no longer visible in the corner of his vision.
Soundwave didn't like the lack of control he had over his surroundings.
He almost considered the mask a part of his armor.
The longer he stared at his reflection, the more he felt conflicted.
After a few kliks, he noticed his vision was slightly blurry.
Soundwave blinked a few times, attempting to focus. The buzz in his processor only confirmed his intoxication. He'd never consumed Visco before, and it seemed he would live to regret it; he only drank half, but he already felt the effects.
Weariness began weighing down on him. It had been too long since he'd had proper recharge.
Soundwave tried to blink it off, but the heavy feeling grew stronger.
Soundwave wiped his optics and continued to tweak Laserbeak's joints. Monotonous work helped clear his helm.
As time passed, he didn't seem to realize his breathing slowed. His optics dropped lower, and his movements became slow.
Eventually, the mech's vision grew blurrier. The more he blinked, the harder it was to keep his optics open. Though he fought it, he eventually gave in to his tiredness.
His helm dropped onto the table, and he fell into deep recharge.
Darkstrike's optic-lids felt heavy as she opened them. Immediately, she felt a strong helm-ache. The femme wanted to keep sleeping, but the room's harsh light made her stir.
I could've sworn I turned it off last night.
Squinting, she opened her optics to look around her room. Darkstrike suddenly realized it wasn't her chambers.
She noticed Soundwave sitting at his table with his back to her.
The femme flinched, sitting up as she remembered the events of last night. She felt a sudden pain shoot up her spine, traveling up her shoulders.
All words left her processor, and she couldn't figure out what to say to him.
Darkstrike cleared her throat.
"Good m-morning…" Her voice was raspy. Licking her lips, she could still taste the Visco from last night.
Darkstrike shifted off the berth. In moving, the pain of her all her other wounds awakened. She winced as she took a step forward.
Looking at Soundwave, she saw he wasn't moving. Darkstrike slowly approached him.
Getting a full view, she realized he was slumped over the table. His optics were closed, and his visor laid next to him. He breathed rhythmically.
He must've fallen asleep after her.
Judging by the tools in his servos, it hadn't been intentional. Laserbeak wasn't put away, either. He also didn't respond to her movement.
It was strange to think that Soundwave could recharge like any other Cybertronian. Seeing him vulnerable like this was transfixing. It was a reminder that even highly skilled fighters had to sleep.
Darkstrike leaned forward to look at him.
His face was more relaxed, but his optic ridges remained slightly furrowed. Even resting, he looked serious.
She wondered why he'd kept the mask off, but she wasn't complaining. Darkstrike would take this one last time to look at his bare face, especially without the risk of his scrutiny.
Seeing his resting expression stirred up lots of feelings inside of her. It reminded her how he looked the night before… the moment he kissed her— or rather when she kissed him.
Darkstrike sighed, rubbing her servo over forehelm.
The worst part was how much she'd enjoyed it.
From the moment he had slipped his tongue in her mouth, Darkstrike had been willing to give up everything.
She grew embarrassed thinking about it.
The way he made her feel— the passion they both showed, it was all unmatched. Soundwave was the first to make her feel like this.
Looking down, she saw where his servos had drifted; he left light claw marks on the armor of her thighs.
Darkstrike bit her lip, suddenly feeling unsatisfied with how they had left things off yesterday.
She wasn't sure how things would go in the future, but she was sure the chance of them fully engaging was slim.
She certainly hadn't thought about the consequences of her actions.
Hopefully, I didn't make things messy. She wouldn't know what to do if they were at a point of no return.
Darkstrike could try to disregard the moment, apologize to Soundwave and tell him it won't happen again.
Though... she wanted it to happen again.
She glanced away.
I shouldn't be thinking things like that.
Darkstrike was unsure what to make of their relationship anymore.
Again, she was reminded of her inexperience with romantic relations.
To date, Soundwave was one of the few mechs she'd ever involved herself with. Given her busy work environment, Darkstrike had never really gone out with many bots, and the relationships hadn't lasted long when she did.
Darkstrike had never been… intimate with another bot either. Already, what she'd done with Soundwave surpassed all her previous relationships.
Though given their current circumstance, it was likely they wouldn't do anything again. The high-ranker was making it increasingly clear how he wanted to keep things between them.
Deep down, she recognized that even if they did continue as lovers, it wouldn't work out. They were Gladiators; they had plenty to worry about, mainly her.
At the same time, Darkstrike wasn't ready to let it go. She desperately wanted to push their limits more. She couldn't go back to a simple partnership.
Darkstrike wanted to keep going, even if it became a "no string attached" arrangement.
She inched her servo forward, brushing against his arm. He didn't flinch, likely in a deep sleep. Soundwave would disapprove of the contact, but she continued anyway.
I'm completely infatuated with him, aren't I?
How embarrassing.
The femme took a step back, best to keep her distance so she wouldn't have to deal with any implications if he awoke.
Her red optics glanced over at the scattered tools on the table. Knowing how tidy he usually was, Darkstrike decided she would organize his workspace.
Working as his assistant, Darkstrike had gotten to know Soundwave's preferences. Since her past job, she had always been praised for her attention to detail.
Without thinking twice, she grabbed all the tools based on category. Carefully, she put them in their designated drawers.
Darkstrike attempted to take the tools in his servos, but his grip tightened when she pulled. After a few more tugs, she gave up.
Darkstrike couldn't help but smile.
Leaving them be, she gathered Laserbeak's loose parts and put them on the other side of the table.
Dusting her servos, she looked around proudly.
Now… What else to do?
She should probably freshen up and rest some more.
Darkstrike looked at the door and back at Soundwave.
She didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but she also didn't want to wake him up. He could react in any way, especially since his visor was still off.
Not only that, but Darkstrike certainly didn't want to deal with the consequences of yesterday.
But still, it wouldn't feel right to leave abruptly.
Staring at his sleeping expression, Darkstrike decided she'd face Soundwave like a true warrior.
Reaching down, she shook his shoulder.
"Soundwave," she said softly.
His servo immediately released the tool, one grabbing her wrist and the other propping himself up. He stood, keeping his hold. Soundwave looked down at her.
His optics squinted, visibly affected by the lights. There were dark circles under his optics; it was evident that he had barely woken up.
Darkstrike bit her lip, unable to help herself from admiring his tired appearance.
His expression seemed to soften after a few nano-kliks.
Soundwave let go of her wrist.
"I didn't want to wake you, but I wanted to let you know I'm heading to the showers. I'll come back later today to assist with Laserbeak," Darkstrike said.
He looked at his workspace.
"I also tidied your desk while you were asleep."
Soundwave briefly looked over his area, scanning the surface. He seemed to stop when he spotted his visor. Without thinking twice, the mech grabbed it and brought it up to his face— once again shielding him from the world.
She didn't want to mention what happened last night, so she opted not to bring it up.
"I'll return later," Darkstrike said.
He didn't reply at first.
After a bit, he nodded.
She took it as her cue to leave.
The femme walked over to the door, giving one final goodbye wave.
Darkstrike made her way toward her room, unaware of the optics that had trailed behind her.
White pupils narrowed at the femme leaving certain quarters. RocketShield crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on the door Darkstrike had exited.
Suspicions immediately formed in his processor, all involving the femme in scandalous situations.
RocketShield began making the connections between past encounters and present ones. Soundwave had made more than one bet with him, many revolving around the femme and all that RocketShield had lost. The idea that Soundwave and that Brightplate were affiliated caused him a great deal of indignity.
Unable to ignore what he'd seen, the mech couldn't help the jealousy biting at his spark.
Still, he knew he would have to remain calm, or Megatronus have his spark. RocketShield had seen what happened to bots that angered him.
Following his orders, RocketShield would continue watching her.
Darkstrike exited Swindle's shop.
She had come in to check that the owner's payment had gone through, but after their last encounter, she wasn't too happy seeing the businessmech again.
He was surprised when she stormed in, throwing the tracking device on the counter. His two workers responded by approaching her threateningly.
Given that she'd forgotten to return Soundwave's sword, she had a means of intimidation of her own. His workers appeared more hesitant when she held it close.
Swindle looked displeased at the damage to his property, and Darkstrike relished in that.
Needless to say, she hadn't been in there for long.
Dusting herself off, she walked over to the arena entrance.
The automated doors swished open, revealing a large mech on the other side.
She froze in her tracks, her optics barely meeting his abdomen. Looking up at him, Darkstrike felt small.
Her pupils slowly rose to meet his own.
Blue optics stared directly at her, his presence feeling immensely towering.
"Excuse me," she said, stepping aside. Darkstrike respectfully looked away, trying not to call attention to herself.
Megatronus exited the doorway, his prominent figure blocking the way for her.
"Darkstrike," he said, "What a pleasure."
The femme was forced to meet his gaze again.
Red met blue, and they stared at each other for a whole klik.
Megatronus was the first to break the silence, "Would you mind joining me for a walk?" he asked.
Darkstrike blinked several times.
Aside from bumping into him a few times, she had never directly interacted with him. The middle-ranker didn't know what he could possibly want with her.
One thing for sure, there was more behind his seemingly friendly smile.
Regardless of what he wanted, she wouldn't cower. It would be wise to show her strength in front of the highest-ranking Gladiator.
She held her guard up, unable to stop her spark from beating fast.
"I don't mind at all," Darkstrike finally replied, "Lead the way."
He smiled, showing his pointed denta, "Come."
They walked away from Swindle's shop, staying on the outskirts of the arena. It was quiet at first.
"I apologize for my sudden request; I wanted to make sure we had privacy," the mech said, "I don't think we've ever introduced ourselves."
"No, but I'm familiar with who you are."
"I could say the same thing about you," Megatronus countered, "Reputation tells us only so much about a person, though. I find there's always more than what appears on the surface."
Before she could reply, he spoke again, "I attended your fight yesterday, Darkstrike."
She turned to him, surprised that he used her name.
"It was quite successful; I'm sure you are proud of your achievement."
"I… suppose," she eyed him suspiciously.
In reality, Darkstrike thought her fight could've gone smoother. The Twins had been her most difficult opponents, and it gave her no satisfaction what she had to do in the end.
"I still have much to learn; don't get the wrong impression of me, though— I did what I had to do," Darkstrike stated.
Megatronus chuckled, "My dear, I am no one to question your methods. We must do what is necessary for our end goal, at all costs."
Darkstrike didn't know what to say, unsure what he was getting at.
"I do have one question, if I may," he looked at her.
Her spark beat quickly again, her flight or fight reflexes threatening to overtake her. Darkstrike did her best to hide her apprehension.
"What's that?" she asked smoothly.
"The Owner, Lanyard, arranged your fight, did he not?"
"Yes…"
He didn't say anything for a klik.
They continued walking.
"Why would he arrange a fight with warriors that surpass your ranking?"
The femme stopped walking, prompting him to halt too. The atmosphere was suddenly tense; she knew he could feel it too.
His smile morphed into a neutral expression.
Eying him suspiciously, she spoke, "Excuse my bluntness, Megatronus, but why do you ask?"
The mech looked towards the wall next to them.
"I have suspicions I need to be confirmed," he mused.
His posture appeared calm and non-threatening. Based on his demeanor, it looked like he only wanted to talk. Megatronus wanted information from her, but Darkstrike didn't know how much to tell him.
"I want to know what lengths the Owners will go to keep their power," Megatronus said.
"It seems like you you already know something."
He regarded her seriously.
"Cybertron is changing, whether the owners want to acknowledge it. Their system will soon crumble beneath them, and we Gladiators must be prepared for it. Know that when that cycle arrives, I will be the first to take action."
"So, Darkstrike," he said her name slowly, "When the owners become a part of the past, what side will you be on?"
She clenched her fists, glancing at the painted symbol on his chest.
Darkstrike knew little about Megatronus, but she knew he was a very outspoken bot. A modern poet, many bots called him. After most of his fights, he gave speeches on his harsh opinions of Cybertron's caste system.
Given his ideology, he was unlikely working undercover for the Owners.
It was bold of him to show his intentions and trust that she wasn't a spy either.
She let a bit of her guard down.
"I suppose I'll worry about that when I'm finally free," Darkstrike conferred.
Megatronus smirked.
"Freedom is closer than you know," he replied.
"You sound so sure," she looked around, "How are you speaking so openly? Aren't you worried they'll hear you?"
He chuckled, "The Owners know very well how I feel. Because of my influence in Kaon, they cannot eliminate me without causing an uproar. I do not fear them or their spies."
Darkstrike couldn't help but feel both fear and reassurance from his words.
"Now then, may I ask about your fight?" he asked.
She gave him her full attention, "Alright…"
"I was told the Twins' opening match would be with four mechs. If I had known any better, it looked like the Owner set you up to fail."
"You could say that," Darkstrike admitted, "I was desperate, and Lanyard gave me the chance to clear a debt. He gave me the task of defeating Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
"The deal was that I would be the Twins' first fight to make it seem like an easy win. The other owner, his brother, only accepted because he thought I'd have no chance against his fighters. He intended to boost his arena's reputation in Slaughter City. Lanyard wanted me to win to make his Pit look better.
"The Twins were transferred to this arena because of Lanyard's lack of high-ranking fighters. I'm sure you've seen it with your own optics; too many death matches are taking place."
"It is not a coincidence all my fights this orbital cycle have been death matches," he said, "As you see, the Owners will do whatever it takes to get rid of me."
That means Megatronus has a part in the shortage of high-rankers.
"You were successful yesterday," Megatronus said, "And because of that, Lanyard gained more wealth and power in this Pit."
"Unfortunately, yes. I haven't seen him since I made the deal, so what I told you is everything I know."
"Interesting," he said. The silver mech began walking, and Darkstrike followed suit.
He was quiet for a couple of kliks.
"Is there anything else you need?" she questioned.
Megatronus broke out of thought and looked at her.
"One last thing," he probed, "Where did you attain that sword?" A silver finger pointed at the blade on her back.
Her optics widened at the sudden change in topic.
Darkstrike couldn't help but look away.
"Why do you ask?" Her guard was up again. She didn't want to reveal anything about her mentorship to Soundwave, but looking at his knowing stare, it seemed he already knew something.
Darkstrike had seen them in each other's company several times before, but she didn't know if that meant anything; Soundwave hadn't mentioned Megatronus before.
"I have only ever seen another like it," he reminisced, "I would never forget the sword that nearly vanquished me."
She grew more nervous.
"May I see it?" the mech asked, extending a servo.
Darkstrike looked at him directly.
He was a bold mech, and it was hard to say no to such an aura.
She was left with very few options.
"I'm afraid I can't."
Megatronus raised an optic ridge.
"This sword belongs to my mentor Soundwave, I would rather not use it unnecessarily."
"Then it is true, Soundwave has taken a mentee." he retracted his servo.
Her optic ridges rose in surprise.
"You knew?" Darkstrike questioned.
Megatronus glanced away, hiding his pleased expression, "Soundwave mentioned it once."
Somehow, she didn't believe that. The femme felt like she'd been tricked into telling the truth.
"Tell me, Darkstrike, how is he as a mentor? I would assume strict, perhaps blunt."
She sweatdropped.
"He hinted he's a merciless teacher," he continued, "In fact, I once saw him carry your unconscious body after you passed out from a spar. It truly enlightened me to rethink my own teachings."
She knew what spar he could've been referring to— her very first one with Soundwave.
Darkstrike panicked, unable to tell if he was lying or not. If it was true, Megatronus could've discovered their arrangement on that cycle; she otherwise couldn't imagine Soundwave telling him directly.
"Um, he's very thorough, I suppose. He knows how to push me past my limits."
"Is that so?"
She couldn't help but feel embarrassed, "But enough about me. You mentioned something about teachings, right? Are you a mentor yourself?"
Megatronus chuckled.
"Apologies. Soundwave is an acquaintance of mine. He doesn't reveal much about himself, so you could say I was curious," he said, "To answer your question, I do mentor someone. He is a young mech; you remind me of him, actually."
Darkstrike was instantly curious about who he could be referring to.
"I'm meeting him right now. Would you like me to introduce you?"
She retracted her previous thoughts.
"No— I don't think that will be necessary."
Megatronus suddenly stopped, turning towards a medium-sized entrance on their right. It took her a klik to realize they had reached the back entrance of the Pit.
Darkstrike looked at him questioningly before noticing a mech up ahead.
He waved at them.
"It looks like you have no choice," the silver mech quipped.
Upon closer view, she noticed the mech looked familiar.
"Orion!" Megatronus called out.
They approached each other and shook servos.
"Good to see you, friend," Orion greeted.
The femme raised her optic ridges high, finding the sight in front of her unbelievable.
"Hello to you too, Darkstrike," Orion waved.
Megatronus turned to her, "I see you're familiar with my student, Orion Pax."
She glanced at both of them. The blue mech had mentioned having a Gladiator mentor, but she would've never imagined Megatronus of all bots. If she recalled, he was teaching Orion about Kaon's political science.
"It's nice to see you again," the high-caste mech smiled.
She returned the gesture.
"We both ran into each other, and I wanted to commend her for her victory yesterday," Megatronus added.
"Ah yes, congratulations, Darkstrike. You did a great job in the arena," Orion agreed.
"I'm just happy to have escaped relatively unscathed," she replied. At the mention of it, her wounds ached.
"In any case, I hope you enjoy your rewards."
Darkstrike nodded to show appreciation, "I think I'll be on my way now."
"Would you care to join us?" Megatronus asked.
She glanced at both of them, "Join you?"
"We are meeting up for a conference with Megatronus' new followers. It is taking place in Central Kaon," Orion clarified.
Darkstrike thought about it. Though it seemed like a harmless idea, she realized she wasn't familiar with the details of his cause.
Before she could ask, the sound of a door opening interrupted them.
A silhouette appeared at the end of the hall, likely a mech entering the arena.
They all stopped and turned.
Surprisingly, the bot was revealed to be Soundwave. His helm turned in their direction, lingering the most on Megatronus.
Orion observed him with interest. His unknowing expression gave her the impression that they'd never met before.
"Soundwave," Megatronus greeted.
He nodded in return.
"I'll be seeing you tomorrow," the silver mech said.
"Affirmative," he replied. Soundwave walked past them, seemingly ignoring her.
Except, after a few steps, he stopped unexpectedly.
The femme held her breath.
"Darkstrike," he called out.
She froze.
"Come. There is work to be done."
"Of course," she replied. Looking back at the other mechs, she bowed her helm, "Megatronus, Orion."
Megatronus returned it while Orion waved back.
She approached Soundwave and began walking away with him.
They were silent as they entered the arena building. Once inside, he looked around to see if anyone else was there.
When Soundwave saw no one, they walked further into the hallways, quickly making their way to his room. Darkstrike remained behind Soundwave in case they encountered anyone.
Only after they arrived at his room he regarded her.
They stood near his workspace.
"What did he say to you?" Soundwave questioned.
"Um, nothing really. He just wanted to ask me some questions," she replied.
"What questions?"
Darkstrike got the feeling that he and Megatronus weren't exactly "acquaintances" as the other mech claimed.
"We ran into each other outside, and he asked me to join him for a walk," she said, "At first, it was nothing interesting; we exchanged pleasantries, and he congratulated me on winning. When he finally cut to the chase, he asked me why the owners arranged my fight to begin with, especially with opponents out of my league."
Soundwave's helm moved subtly, showing that he was in deep thought.
Used to his silent responses, Darkstrike continued, "He wanted to know why they were so desperate. I felt no need to lie. I'm no owner-sympathizer, and neither is Megatronus."
He looked at her.
"He was contemptful of the Owners, flaunting his power over them. He boldly claimed that because they can't kill him directly, they've arranged all his fights to be death matches."
Soundwave continued in thought.
"What do you think of that?" she asked.
"Megatronus does hold power. He is dangerous; if possible, avoid him."
"'If possible?' Does that mean he will attempt to talk to me again?"
"Affirmative."
"I see…" The realization hit her that she needed to be more cautious when vocalizing her thoughts.
"Is that all?" Soundwave asked.
Darkstrike paused, trying to reflect on their conversation.
"Megatronus changed the subject and asked me where I got this sword," she brought it out from its sheath, giving it to him.
Soundwave looked at it before taking hold of the handle.
"I knew he recognized it; I felt I had no choice but to tell him the truth."
He immediately turned his helm to her.
"But, he seemed to know already," she said, "Megatronus said you mentioned it to him, but I don't believe that. When he revealed that he caught you carrying me unconscious after a spar, I figured that's when he really found out."
"That is not of importance." Soundwave walked to his table, setting down the blade.
Darkstrike stood silent for a klik.
After a bit, she inched forward.
"What is your affiliation with Megatronus?"
He didn't reply.
"It's just— I've seen you two talking before, a few times actually."
"He is less than acquaintance," Soundwave said, "Megatronus always initiates contact."
Darkstrike nodded.
"I agree with some beliefs but do not trust him."
It was certainly odd that Megatronus had asked about Soundwave, already knowing he was her mentor. He could've been testing her honesty or simply seeing how much she would reveal.
"One last question," she added.
He looked at her.
"What do you know about Megatronus' cause? I've heard some of his speeches but haven't attended many of his fights."
Soundwave turned back to the table, beginning the gather his tools. "Many speeches against Upper Class. He calls for equality, believes Cybertron's caste system is unjust."
"Then, you agree with him?"
"I disagree with management of cause. Megatronus is too ambitious; followers are chaotic. There is lack of order."
"I understand now…" Looking up, she asked, "Has he ever asked you to join?"
"Too many questions," Soundwave continued setting up his workspace.
Darkstrike sheepishly looked down, nervously curling her fingers.
Before she could say anything, he spoke up, "He has," Soundwave said, "However, it is not in best interest. For now, I serve only as temporary advisor."
She bit her lip, "Right before you showed up, he asked me to join too."
"Your response?"
"I never gave him an answer."
He was quiet for a few nano kliks.
"It is expected," Soundwave said, "You have gained attention from fight."
Her optic ridges raised; she would never have expected that to be an outcome of her match.
"What should I tell him if he asks again?" Darkstrike asked.
"What do you wish to say?"
She took a moment to think.
"I'll respectfully decline."
She understood why it was necessary to follow Soundwave's orders; Megatronus certainly looked like a dangerous mech, despite his polite facade.
At the same time, she wanted to go to the conference to see for herself what he was promising. It was undeniable that the idea of change was desirable.
A small part of her hoped Soundwave would change his mind and open up to joining.
"For now, do not draw any more attention; Consult before making decisions," he said.
Darkstrike nodded, "Understood."
"Good," Soundwave said, "Come." He beckoned her closer, letting her take his datapad.
Briefing over his current progress, they split up to do their own independent tasks.
After that, they worked for about a few joors, most of it in silence.
Darkstrike finished up at night, eager to catch up after spending the last orn training.
After helping him clean up, Darkstrike had dismissed herself, and without further comment, Soundwave allowed her to go.
Though it was late, she was anything but tired. Knowing her restlessness wouldn't allow her to recharge, Darkstrike went to the training grounds in a last attempt to clear her thoughts.
Now that Laserbeak no longer distracted her, the quiet mech was all on her mind, especially since they still hadn't mentioned what happened the night before.
She had been too cowardly to bring it up.
Darkstrike couldn't stop thinking about it, and all she could wonder was why Soundwave had stopped kissing her.
She wondered if he regretted it…
The mech gave her no sign that he wanted to acknowledge last night; it probably meant he wanted to keep things as they were before.
With everything going on, it was probably for the better.
Darkstrike kicked the large obstacle in front of her.
The chain rattled as it swung back and when it returned, she hit it twice as hard.
A wave of unease hit her at realizing that Soundwave wasn't the only issue she had to worry about. With the success of her recent fight, she'd gained attention, namely from Megatronus.
What he said stuck with her.
Their system will soon crumble beneath them, and we Gladiators must be prepared for it.
If the arena system would collapse one cycle, Darkstrike wouldn't know what to do next.
The idea of freedom seemed entirely foreign to her. She hadn't really ever thought of a life without working or fighting. To say she was content with her circumstance would be an overstatement, but she never imagined a reality where the Owners relinquished her as a fighting slave.
The femme didn't know what to do if that happened.
She would have to reenter society and take a working job or simply join another Gladiator ring.
There weren't many other ways to support oneself in a high caste society. The idea of true freedom only existed for those with endless wealth.
An idea crossed her mind.
Maybe I could go wherever Soundwave goes?
After all, he was her mentor, and she was his assistant for Project Laserbeak.
Except…
As of her last match, Soundwave was no longer her fighting mentor.
And soon enough, Laserbeak would be fully built and functional.
After that, she would have no other reason to stick around. It would be up to Soundwave to decide if he wanted her to stay.
Darkstrike shook her helm, trying her hardest to stop intrusive thoughts.
Why does it always have to come back to him?
She stopped, realizing training wasn't clearing her mind as much as she'd hoped. The femme sighed, catching the swinging obstacle and letting it go limp.
It was best if she called it a night.
Darkstrike suddenly felt a gust of air behind her.
The flier turned around and jumped out of the way, nano-kliks before getting kicked.
She looked at the mech responsible, unsurprised when she saw RocketShield standing in front of her.
Darkstrike glared at him.
It had been a while since she'd heard from him; her life had gotten significantly less vexing without his presence.
RocketShield crossed his arms and smirked.
"So you are getting better," he said, "It's been a while, Brightplate."
She wondered when they'd encounter again.
"Out of my way," Darkstrike ordered.
She spared him an uninterested glance before turning away. Most bots with a large pride didn't like being ignored. RocketShield was no exception.
"What, you think you're hot stuff because you survived one mesely fight?"
She raised her servo to throw him an obscene gesture.
As Darkstrike tried to walk away, he ran in front of her.
"Hey, hey, I'm just kidding! Kidding," RocketShield put his servos up, "No need to be so hostile."
She eyed him warily.
"I just wanted to talk, that's it," he said.
"I recall you saying that before."
A small blush tinted his face, "This is different!"
She rolled her optics. Fine, I'll humor him if it means saving myself the effort.
"Alright, what do you want?"
He looked around the area.
Darkstrike followed his action, noticing that there were only a few mechs on the training grounds.
He stepped closer and spoke softly.
"I saw you talk to Megatronus today."
Darkstrike froze up, her optics widening. Immediately, she put her guard up, instinctively getting in stance.
RocketShield, in contrast, appeared nonchalant with one servo leaning on the machine she was just using.
"Not to worry, Brightplate," he said confidently. "I'm on his side, which means you're on my side."
Her expression became bemused.
"What…?"
He sighed impatiently, "He told you to join his cause, didn't he?"
"Yes—"
"Good, then everything's going to plan!" He continued without letting her respond, "Megatronus put me in charge of forming a group of Gladiators for a special mission. I want you to join my group," he ordered.
Special mission?
It was a lot for her to take in.
Somehow RocketShield had been around when she talked to Megatronus. Thinking back, she remembered the silver mech emphasizing wanting privacy when they first started their walk. RocketShield must've not heard the conversation after that.
Another thing was that among all mechs, RocketShield was a part of Megatronus' cause— and not only that, but he was also incharge of a special mission.
Soundwave was right about Megatronus' cause being unruly. She would do as he said and not involve herself with him or any of his followers.
RocketShield's invitation appeared sincere, but after enduring all of his torment, she wouldn't think twice about rejecting his offer.
Darkstrike crossed her arms.
"No, thanks," she said, "I have my own arrangement with Megatronus."
"Oh yeah, and what's that?"
"That's none of your business," she attempted to turn around and walk away, but RocketShield grabbed the end of her wing.
Darkstrike spun around angrily, bringing out her claws and scratching his chest.
He recoiled, touching the newly formed claw marks and watching as blood oozed. RocketShield turned to her, fury in his gaze.
"So you have an arrangement with Megatronus, do you? Is it also the same one you have with Soundwave?"
She was taken aback by his accusation, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I saw you come out of Soundwave's room with claw marks on your thighs. I can only imagine Megatronus wanting to open your legs and frag you like the little whore you are—"
Darkstrike launched at him, her fist shattering his faceplate. The mech flung backward, getting winded when he landed on his back.
It was a perfect moment, just as rewarding as she'd imagined.
At that moment, her self-restraint snapped, and any reasonable thought in her processor vanished.
Rage fueled her whole body to react. She was teeming with an overabundance of energy, making her claws glow blue.
She had only one intention: violence.
Oh, and she had waited so long for it.
Soundwave submerged himself in repetitive work, simmering in the silence of his room.
He typed on his datapad continuously, only stopping to look at his current model of Laserbeak. There was still about an orbital cycle of work left to make a fully working minicon.
Given the sleep he'd gotten the cycle before, he wouldn't need to recharge for the next two nights. Soundwave would take advantage to catch up on his work.
Skrt*
He suddenly stopped what he was doing.
Someone was attempting to contact him through comm link. Stopping what he was doing, he turned it on and waited for a voice.
"Is this thing working? Soundwave? Can you hear me?" A mech spoke.
It was the Owner, Lanyard.
He debated not answering; responding to an Owner's call this late never brought anything good. Soundwave didn't like playing spy or bodyguard for Lanyard, only bearing with it to get information.
Lately, the Owner had started to ask more of him.
"Hello?!"
Soundwave waited before answering.
"If you're listening. I need you to do any easy job for me; I only need 20 kliks of your time," he said, "I'm offering 300— no, 400 credits!"
Against his better judgment, Soundwave turned on his mic.
"Continue," he replied.
"Good…" he sounded relieved, "There's a fight happening in the training area. I need you to break it up."
"This is a job for Insecticons," Soundwave retorted.
"They're not here right now, and I need someone with more subtlety for this," there was a pause and then a sigh, "That femme is involved; she attacked someone."
Soundwave became alert at the mention of Darkstrike.
"She's worth a lot, and I don't want damaged goods. If she doesn't cooperate, just knock her out or something. But make sure you bring her back alive."
Once again, he couldn't help but feel like he and the femme were bound together.
"Bring both her and the mech responsible for this to me."
Soundwave set aside his datapad, "Affirmative."
The fight had brought the attention of many mechs, all of them crowding the scene. Soundwave wasn't able to see past them.
RocketShield's yells filled his audios.
He walked forward, making his presence known. The mechs on the outer rim noticed him and stepped aside. Very quickly, the rest cleared a path for him to pass through.
When Soundwave reached the other side, he saw Darkstrike on the ground holding RocketShield in a chokehold. He flailed wildly in her arms, one arm knocking on the floor and the other trying to get ahold of her. His legs kicked and turned to no avail.
The mechs around him senselessly cheered, incited by the violence before them.
Darkstrike had a feral look in her optics. She grinned wide enough to show off her pointed incisors. The longer she pressed, the more damage RocketShield sustained to his vocal transmitters.
Blue fluids began dripping from the area.
He couldn't help but appreciate the femme in this state.
Soundwave stepped closer, showing himself in front of everyone.
"Enough."
The cheers soon died, and they all directed their optics at him.
Darkstrike angrily turned to him before visibly freezing. Her hold slackened on RocketShield, giving him some relief. Though he had room, he appeared too weak to move.
"Stand," Soundwave commanded, "The Owner demands to speak with both of you."
The femme scrambled to stand, throwing RocketShield's body off.
Her optics looked up at him hesitantly, her previous bravado now faded.
RocketShield didn't respond, and upon further inspection, Soundwave noticed he had fallen unconscious.
Without hesitation, he extended a tendril and clamped the mech's shoulder. Darkstrike flinched at the sudden movement.
Soundwave began walking, dragging RocketShield along with him.
The mechs around them began to disperse, likely mumbling their speculations.
He turned around, looking directly at the femme. She seemed to have understood his message and followed him.
Soon, it was only the three of them.
"Why… are you taking us to the Owner?"
Soundwave didn't respond.
Darkstrike quickened her pace, walking next to him.
He glanced at her, watching as she struggled to find the words to say. Her appearance was disheveled, energon leaking out of her previous wounds. A lot of his work from the night before had been undone.
As she opened her mouth, he threw her a warning glance, his posture reflecting his irk.
She went rigid, aware of his disapproval.
Darkstrike averted her optics.
They walked in silence for the remainder of the way.
After a few kliks, they arrived.
Soundwave approached the door and looked back at her.
"RocketShield first."
Darkstrike nodded.
He entered the office without an invitation. The Owner stood in front of his desk, arms crossed and a pleased expression on his face.
"Soundwave," he grinned, "I can always count on you to get the job done."
The door closed behind him.
Using his tendril, he threw RocketShield onto a nearby chair. The rough movement shook him up, and he began groaning.
"Now then, let's get this over with quickly. I don't want to miss my flight," Lanyard grabbed RocketShield's face, inspecting it, "Can you hear me?"
RocketShield's damaged voice receptor only allowed him to make guttural noises. He settled for nodding his helm.
"Okay, good," Lanyard said, "Now, I'm only going to ask once: what happened, and why are you damaging my property?"
RocketShield shook his helm, uttering one word, "H-h-er."
The Owner looked unimpressed, "She threw the first punch, but I was told you threatened her right before. To threaten her is to threaten me, is that what you're trying to do, RocketShield? Hm?"
The mech shook his helm.
"Good! Now I'm going to ask you again," Lanyard demanded, "What happened?"
RocketShield released a jumble of words.
"What? Huh? Ah, I can't understand slag," the Owner frowned.
He turned to Soundwave, "Do you have any idea what happened?"
Soundwave looked at the RocketShield.
He also wanted to know what caused their outbreak, if only to know why Darkstrike had started it.
Quickly, he dove into RocketShield's processor, unveiling his memory of just a few kliks ago. Without caring of gentility, Soundwave pulled out what he needed.
RocketShield thrashed and shook his helm, his yells causing Lanyard to flinch.
The recollection replayed in his mind, and he absorbed a cycle's worth of memories in a matter of 10 nano kliks.
Soundwave felt taken aback at the revelation that RocketShield had been spying on Darkstrike earlier, only stopping when Megatonus began talking to Darkstrike. The mech had ordered RocketShield to inform him of the femme's whereabouts so he could find an opportunity to confront her privately.
It meant their conversation from earlier had been planned.
Then, RocketShield later found her on the training grounds alone. That's when he approached her.
Soundwave turned to the owner, "RocketShield attempted to recruit femme for a mission. When rejected, he threatened her."
What most frustrated him were the false speculations RocketShield made about him and Darkstrike. The middle-ranker had even gone as far as to accuse her of being Megatronus' courtesan.
He realized his moment of weakness had finally come back to haunt him; it was becoming very apparent he wouldn't be able to keep his arrangement with Darkstrike any longer.
"You heard me, I saw you come out of Soundwave's room with claw marks on your thighs."
Mechs like Megatronus and RocketShield had been keen enough to spot it, and it was only a matter of time until the Owner did as well.
"I can only imagine Megatronus wanting to open your legs and frag you like the little whore you are—"
He felt anger brew inside of him at hearing RocketShield's vulgar words. The idea of Darkstrike interfacing with another mech— with Megatronus of anyone, filled him with extreme distaste.
Soundwave clenched his fists.
He cleared his thoughts, forcing himself to relax.
The Owner's nasal voice brought him back to the scene, "Mission? Do tell, RocketShield."
The mech shifted, visibly turning his helm away.
"Oh, I know that look. I know it well," Lanyard stood up straight, "I've seen it dozens of times before—The look of treason."
The Owner looked away, thinking to himself, "Hm, you can't talk, so I wonder how I'll get more information from you…"
RocketShield tried to talk, none of it understandable.
"I guess we'll just have to take out your processor and dissect it."
Unexpectedly, RocketShield sprung up from his seat, bolting towards the door.
Soundwave blocked his way, his tendrils coming out and connecting to his frame. Electricity shocked RocketShield, making him spasm and fall limp.
Lanyard looked pleased.
"Good. Now that that's taken care of," he said, "About your payment…"
Soundwave eyed him warily.
"I want to offer you a deal twice your current amount."
He stood silent.
"I want you to gather more information about Megatronus. He's been getting a lot of support lately, and I want to know what he's plotting."
"..."
"Now I know you don't like being my spy, so I'm willing to throw in a hundred extra credits. What do you say?"
He took a klik to think about it.
It was true that he didn't like spying for the owner, but Soundwave also knew he couldn't pass up 900 credits. He'd given him information about Megatronus several times in the past, and because of that, the Owner trusted him.
Lanyard truly had no idea how much he omitted from him.
"One condition," Soundwave interjected.
"What?" he didn't look pleased.
"I require half payment now."
Lanyard rolled his optics and sighed dramatically, "Fine, here you are," he opened a case revealing lots of bright currency, "Does that mean we have a deal?"
Soundwave nodded.
"Wonderful," he smirked, "I want you to go to his fight in two orns; all of his associates will be there. I'm going on a short vacation, but I'll be back to collect the information."
The Owner flipped through the calendar on his desk, "Hm, It says here you have a fight the cycle after Megatronus'. I think that works. Come to my office afterwards."
Behind them, RocketShield groaned.
"Oh, he's still alive," Lanyard callously said, "I'm going to clean up here. Tell the femme I'll be with her in just a moment."
"Is my presence required?"
"No, I doubt the femme has ties with Megatronus; I'll take care of her myself. If anything, I'll hire another spy to watch her; for now, only worry about Megatronus."
He nodded. Without saying anything else, Soundwave exited the room, uncaring of what the Owner did with RocketShield.
When the door closed behind him, he saw Darkstrike standing a few mechameters away. She looked at him with wide optics.
He suddenly realized what he needed to do.
"Soundwave," at first, she appeared relieved.
He approached her silently, walking further to ensure the Owner wouldn't hear them.
Her concerned expression returned.
"Why did the owner ask you to bring RocketShield and me here?" she asked.
He pointed at her.
"Lanyard does not take property damage lightly. You are worth much to him."
Darkstrike looked away.
"You were foolish to bring more attention to yourself."
"I know, and I'm sorry for not following your words," she apologized, "But RocketShield saw me leaving your room and accused me of being a courtesan; I wanted to silence him for good before word got out!"
"I ordered you to consult with me, to remain inconspicuous."
"I did try to walk away, but he wouldn't stop. I did it, consequences be damned!"
"Darkstrike: should have knocked RocketShield out and left," he said, "Showing restraint is integral."
She gave an exasperated sigh, "There is such thing as showing too much self-restraint."
They stared at each other, and he could see the fire in her optics. Her burning orbs of vermillion ingrained into his processor. That alone was enough to tell him that no matter what he said, she wouldn't listen.
Determination suited her well, but he wouldn't accept defiance.
"Disobedience will not be tolerated," he stated.
There was no denying the signs around him pointing at a simple solution. It was time for him to do it— to finally break association with Darkstrike.
Her expression faltered.
"Darkstrike," he said, "You are relieved from your role as assistant."
"What?" she questioned.
Her demeanor changed entirely.
"You are to return all datapads immediately. Do not attempt any further contact."
"Wait, wait— why are you doing this?"
"It is possible Megatronus and Lanyard will have spies watching you."
"H-how do you know that? I thought they weren't working together…"
"They are not," he said, "Working with you is a risk I will not take."
"After all the work I've done, I earned my role," she panicked.
As much as she had benefited him, he couldn't trust Darkstrike's unpredictability; there was a possibility that giving her a second chance could jeopardize all his plans.
She was his only weakness, and mechs like Megatronus were already trying to get to him through her. Soon enough, Lanyard would be next.
For now, it was best if he didn't trust anyone.
Soundwave replayed Darkstrike's voice on his visor: "I did it, consequences be damned."
"Now, you will pay the consequences."
Without another word, he walked past Darkstrike, ignoring her crestfallen expression.
When he reached the end of the hall, Soundwave heard the Owner's door swish open.
"Don't be shy; come in, my Darkstrike."
He continued ahead, fighting the urge to look back at her.