Veeery sorry for the long wait to those who still stick with this story. I'm not promising anything, a busy school year's awaiting me. I know, always the school-excuse, but as long I attend college, that's reality. Sorry.
I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)
XII.
"We received the schedule of the Assembly from Praxus." Perceptor let his optics roam over the faces of his scientists he had gathered in the conference room. All were looking back with bright, curious optics - five pairs, without their partners or consultants from other Institutes or Academies. Perceptor was proud. With him, the Kimia Facility was able to send six scientists, six finished projects to the Assembly of Praxus in that stellar cycle, all of them accepted.
He raised the datapad higher, "We are going to have lectures throughout the deca-cycle. The first cycle Wheeljack and Ironfist will start at the 20th joor. Third cycle Brainstorm and Tumbler will come after the Vosian astronomers at the 23rd joor." he looked up from the datapad to see Brainstorm barely able to hold back a grin in enthusiasm, even though he sat alone now. Tumbler still had some work to do at the institute in Crystal City, but knowing them, Perceptor was sure Brainstorm was broadcasting what he said through his comm. link.
"Fifth cycle, Rewind" he saw the mini-con straighten in his seat, tense with excitement. It would be his first real scientific lecture ever since his graduation, "and Orion Pax will start the cycle's lectures at the 18th joor. I will be on the seventh, 22nd joor. Last will be Beachcomber on the ninth cycle at the 19th joor. You shall all receive a copy of the full schedule. I would like your lectures ready by the end of this deca-cycle, send them over to me. We can make modifications until the Assembly."
They discussed where their quarters would be - the Praxian government provided hostels for the participating scientists and artists during the Assembly's course - and Perceptor let them go. Brainstorm was the first to leap from his chair and made his way over to the dean, the gleam seemed to have just grown stronger in his golden optics.
"Tumbler is here!"
Perceptor tilted his head to the side, "Has he just arrived?"
"Yup."
"I'll go meet him in a klick, I need to discuss something with Wheeljack. Don't wait for me."
Brainstorm's shoulder plates sagged a little, hardly noticable and he gave a nod to the other physicist. It must have been something that was only his and Wheeljack's business.
"Okay, right."
The young scientist found Tumbler just outside the main entrance of the Facility with a white, streamlined mech he recognised as Drift from the Rodionite Law Enforcement Academy. He formerly worked at the Quadrant Epsilon headquarters of the Iaconian Mechaforensic Division, the closest to the Kimia. It was then that they got to know each other with Perceptor during an investigation over a fire at one of the workshops - one of Wheeljack's failed inventions, as it turned out - and the former officer had been a guest at the Facility ever since.
What came as a shock to both Brainstorm and Tumbler was that Perceptor, after a while, didn't refuse the instructor's advances. They never thought their friend would let anybody close to himself. They had grown up together - starting as roommates at the same orphanage in Crystal City, the four of them with Highbrow, then adopted by a wealthy pair of scientists - they shared everything they had gone through. Except Perceptor. The road he had to walk was far worse than any of theirs.
"I swear, Tumbler," was the first thing Brainstorm heard Drift say when he walked up to them, "I've been keeping myself - hello, Brainstorm - I've been keeping myself to the promise I made. And Perceptor's completely okay with it. I would never hurry him."
"He hasn't had a relapse for stellar cycles now," Brainstorm spoke, addressing his friend, "We shouldn't keep our optics on him all the time, I mean, let him live like he wants."
Tumbler retracted his visor to let Brainstorm see his expression, "Says the one who followed him to Iacon so he "wouldn't be alone"."
The jetformer rolled his optics, "It was then. But see, Drift's here and the world still hasn't crumbled."
"And I'm making sure it won't." Drift smirked, but his features softened after a klick, "I mean it, really, especially after he told me—"
"Ho, wait!" Tumbler raised up a hand, faceplates betraying utter shock, "He told you?! Everything?"
Drift shook his head mildly with a frown, "Well... I'm sure he hasn't told me everything, but still pretty much. About the beatings and, ah... the other things."
Tumbler and Brainstorm exchanged glances for a moment of heavy silence before, again, Tumbler spoke, "The beatings, yes. Many still can't believe to this cycle that something like this could happen at an orphanage in such a sophisticated state like Crystal City. But the beatings were not extraordinary. Just a beating. Percy didn't receive just a beating. Has he told you about his sickness? That he almost starved to death?"
"Tumbler..."
"I know, 'Storm," the cerebroprogrammer turned back to the bewildered mech before him, "but you need to understand why we're so cautious. Why I'm asking you all the time to be careful. We watched it all happen, and we didn't understand any of it. All we saw was that he was scared, terrified, but he couldn't tell what was being done to him. We tried to help him when he was getting sick, but we were just younglings, couldn't even read, and we couldn't imagine what it was that hurt Percy so much. It was only after stellar cycles that we understood. Stellar cycles of therapies and psychologists. We don't want it repeated. We don't want to just watch if he ever needs help again. He accepted you and you need to take care because we don't want him to ever hurt like that. You may be getting tired of us, but I don't care. Okay?"
Drift bowed his head, then looked towards the glass doors of the Kimia, his look mildly distant, "I know what you mean." he said, "We both take care. Perceptor knows what he wants and I'm willing to assist him."
The conference room soon became empty except for the two mechs sitting opposite each other. Perceptor did not have much time to talk to Wheeljack personally since the last accident that saw the roboticist taken to the Deltaran Medical Facility, he was grateful for this small occasion in the quiet.
"How are you, Wheeljack?" the dean's first question was, "Do your hands still hurt?"
He sincerely meant the worried words. Wheeljack was valuable, one of the most valuable both as an excellent specialist and as one of the few robots Perceptor considered a friend. His hands received the most severe injuries in the accident; Ratchet had to wire him new ones, but it needed time for the mechanisms to adjust to his systems - the new cables and circuitry were overly sensitive at first, so for the rest of their project - by the title of 'Nanites and Biocatalysis' -, Ironfist did the rest of the manual work while Wheeljack dealt with documentation.
However, the engineer smiled cheerfully and raised up his still shiny and unscathed hands - it wouldn't remain that way for long, Perceptor thought with some amusement - and curled his digits in and out.
"Rarely now, I've gained back full mobility. Thanks for asking, Perceptor, but I think that wasn't what you wanted to talk about."
That was right. The physicist leant closer and unconsciously lowered his tone when he brought up the subject he wanted to discuss, "Have you discovered the problem with the cloaking device?"
Wheeljack cleared his throat. Yes, he thought, the project only he and Perceptor knew about, "I'm fully on it now that we finished our project with Ironfist. I have run through the blueprints three times, there was one mechanism where I found an unexpected self-generating particle decohesion."
The dean nodded in understanding, "Do you need help to work it out?"
"Nah." Wheeljack shook his head, frowning, "Who else would you involve in this?"
"Myself," Perceptor stated simply, "since I dragged you into this."
Surprise bloomed on Wheeljack's features, "And I took it. You knew I would do it."
"Yes, I knew you would understand." Perceptor took a deep vent, his frame sagged and he buried his forehead in his palm, "No one... likes it. I may not be a social mech, but I know the general views of my scientists. I know yours, too, but you are open-minded."
For a moment, he stopped and silence reigned again in the huge room, but Wheeljack knew Perceptor wasn't finished yet. He didn't want to ask, just watched the dean gather his thoughts, make order among his emotions that ran havoc under that calm, sad exterior. And when he finally spoke, his tone was quiet, almost feeble;
"Can I be sincere with you, Wheeljack?"
The roboticist tilted his head to the side, "Yes, of course." he whispered, slightly anxious at what Perceptor was about to say.
"I don't know how much longer we can maintain our independence."
The Kimia Facility belonged to neither the government of Iacon or Rodion, private owners from Crystal City were its founders and kept itself running by trading equipment and technology to laboratories, factories, academies and even medical facilities. This was the first time the Senate came to them with a request, and the Chief of Defense made it clear right at the first meeting that they were not to be denied. Ever since then, they had been demanding the pace and authority that started to creep more and more into the Kimia's autonomy.
It unnerved the young dean greatly. Sometimes he couldn't help feel his control slip away in the overwhelming presence of the Senate, at the "autocracy" as one of his mechs had once called it. Was it really turning into one? Perceptor was starting to gain a first-hand experience of their approach, but he did not yet want the scientists and interns of the Facility to know about it. He did not even tell Brainstorm about it, the only one who came with him to be his companion from Crystal City.
He looked up when the silence dragged on too long to see Wheeljack's expression at his confession. It was what he expected; surprise barely holding from becoming shock, and mild fear shone in the engineer's light blue optics.
"What... makes you think that?"
"They are unyielding." Perceptor murmured, "Intent on making us keep our promise. On taking our best. It is not that they don't keep their end, they pay as they said, but it's something more. Asserting their dominance. Do you remember what happened to the Ultirexian technoversity?"
Wheeljack nodded slowly, "The Ministry of Ultirex took it under their control at Senator Tomandi's urging. One of the best scientific and medical academies beside the PMMU. They are now... paying higher taxes and had to reduce the number of staff and projects. You're afraid this will happen to us?"
Perceptor remained silent for another klick before speaking again, "It has been... on my mind recently. More after my last meeting with Chief Flatfoot. I don't want the others to know that I worry. That the technoversity's example is a possibility at all. I hope you understand."
The roboticist gave another nod before they both rose from their seats. He was not to tell anybody about this until Perceptor saw it fit to make an announcement - if it will bring any changes in the future. How many would leave them if they knew the Senate was close to have a say in the Kimia Facility's business? How many would they have to send away...?
Perceptor had been through these thoughts already, and tried to fight them coming back up fresh in his processor once more. He instead told himself to run along the Assembly's schedule again when he made his way to the main gates to meet Tumbler and Brainstorm. He hadn't seen Tumbler in deca-cycles now, if he came it was to work on their project with Brainstorm and Perceptor hardly had time to talk to any of them.
His expression brightened immediately when he saw Drift next to them. The troubling thoughts momentarily forgotten, a rare smile came to life on his lip components and the physicist quickened his steps until he reached the instructor and arrived right into the waiting arms.
"Look!" Brainstorm pointed at them, "We've been like his brothers for vorns and he's not even throwing a "hey, losers" at us."
"I have optics, too, Brainstorm." Tumbler raised an optical ridge, the shock softening from his features as the two mechs broke out of the embrace. He had never seen such a look in Perceptor's optics, but it was unmistakable; the sure feeling of being safe, for the moment, and who were they to be in the way?
When Shockwave stepped into the underground hall, he did not bother looking around the few robots who were currently there; apart from Megatron, Senator Starscream's purple trine mate and Soundwave's creations only two gladiators, Blackout and Skyquake were present. The igniculicist didn't care much about them and only nodded towards Megatron in greeting before making his way straight to Soundwave by the central computer.
Soundwave looked up momentarily from his work to take the datapad from the scientist. He could see that Shockwave noticed he was slightly hunched and the light in his visor was dimmer than usual - he left the repair ward too early to come back to work after his match a few joors before, the dual-spark didn't like to miss even a cycle. Above the quiet buzz of conversations, he concentrated on Shockwave's words,
"I am finished for today, Soundwave." he said and glanced towards Megatron who seemed to be in deep conversation with Starscream. Again, Soundwave thought as he followed the other's gaze, though with much less annoyance; he noticed earlier that Megatron and the senator had been more comfortable in each other's presence, the distance between them had shortened. Soundwave sometimes caught a hand unconsciously held on the other's shoulder or arm, their conversation flowed easier, lighter, not always in battle mode in a play of words. They did keep each other on edge most of the time, but they were learning to relax, and Vos's senator came more often without anything specific in mind, just to be there by some trumped-up reason.
Like now.
Soundwave could still feel that Shockwave was tense in their presence - he, like him, preferred to work alone or with his scientists, the select few he dared bring to the Forge to work on projects they nowhere else could. And he hadn't forgotten either, the anger he held towards the Senate or anyone who had some involvement with the ruling body of Cybertron, hadn't persisted, as if it held his spark in thick, sticky robes that refused to allow anything in or out. Soundwave knew the feeling, yet it still surprised him how strong it was in the dean's mind.
Shockwave averted his gaze from the gladiator and the tri-colour flyer and turned back to watch Soundwave open folder after folder after he had modified the datapad's files to be sent over wirelessly to the central computer. The scientist liked how he worked, he liked the precise way Soundwave handled things and his ability to keep order among the ever growing amount of data in their system while also fighting himself in the rings of the arena. They needed more mechs and femmes like him. Shockwave would have volunteered to take off some of the workload from Soundwave's shoulders, but he was glad for the time he could spend only at the Forge with the Academy at his hands as well, not to mention the constant hiding from the supervision of the authorities.
He gave Soundwave the next datapad when the dual-spark was finished with the first one when the senator's unmistakable voice hit his audios.
"Ha! That's absurd." it rang across the halls, "Primus? Really, now? There is no such a thing as some shiny, almighty deity, Megatron, I thought you're more enlightened than to believe in myths they feed younglings—"
"Starscream," again, it was only the stern voice of the ex-miner that could silence the Seeker, "pick your words. Not everyone," he glanced towards the two other gladiators in the hall eying them suspiciously, "shares your belief. You would do well to respect others' views."
The senator huffed, "Except it's not belief I'm talking about. I'm talking about facts that I can prove with studies I myself made. Atechnogenesis can explain everything you want to know, and you'll understand why your idea would need CNA-bending and core program modifying as I said. Our alt modes are not some gift from the gods, a grounder frame-type like you could never take on, say, a Seeker mode because your algorithm simply doesn't allow it. Believe me, I have a doctorate in that."
It did not come to him as something new - after all, Megatron told him to gather as much information about the trine as he could -, but Soundwave could feel that the last statement filled Shockwave next to him with surprise and disbelief at first. He looked at Starscream with newfound interest and it wasn't broken even when Rumble's shocked outburst ran along the hall,
"What? You're a doctor?!"
Starscream leered at the cassette and folded his arms over his chest, "Yes." he spat, "Why is it that much of a surprise?"
Rumble shrugged, "'S not, just..." he gestured towards the purple Seeker sitting next to them (Skywarp was showing them how to convert files with only two klicks - always finding the easiest way out of work), "with a trine mate like Warpy here..."
"Watch it, scrub!"
Starscream rolled his optics while Soundwave managed to fight down a smirk. His creations got along with Skywarp better than he expected, and it was more of a friendly tug-of-war with him rather than the senator. With that, Starscream turned back to Megatron, intent on continuing where they left off, though it was Megatron who spoke first.
"So I, for example, couldn't take on a flyer alt mode because my core programming wouldn't allow it?"
Starscream gave a nod with a half-smile, glad his point got across, "There are more differences between a flyer frame and a grounder frame than between a mini-con and a standard-height Cybertronian. Unless one of your creators, or one of their creators were a flyer, you would need some rebuilding and CNA-bending to allow your cog to scan a flyer frame. Though, I believe Dean Shockwave could tell you more about that, he's more of an expert on sparks and frames than I am." he looked at Shockwave, their optics met.
Shockwave had already taken back the third datapad from Soundwave when he was finished downloading their contents and subspaced them to walk over to the two mechs. For the first time, there was nothing of the previous hesitance and accusing glares, his interest had been successfully caught in their conversation.
"The senator is right." he said, "You would need a sparkcore modification to take on an aerial alternate mode. Not impossible, but it has its risks. I wouldn't advise it right now, before you want to break out the rebellion."
Megatron hummed, "The rebellion still needs time. We won't let it loose in the near future just yet. We still need to make order among certain things."
"However," Shockwave went on, "There is an anti-gravity technology... there have been experiments to adjust it to a Cybertronian's system. If we do have the time, as you said, we could start working out the mechanisms for our own experiments."
"The combiner technology first, Dean Shockwave." Megatron raised up a hand, "I want a stable combiner, that would give us much more advantage. We already have flyers, after all, and if Starscream is successful," he glanced towards the Seeker, his optics burning brighter, "we will have an armada of flight capable fighters."
Shockwave gave a nod, "I'm thinking of a way to make the creation of a combiner faster. If you are... willing to assist." he turned to Megatron.
"Go on."
"The failed experiment at Galaxxon. The six mechs are still housed at a Burthovian asylum. If I could examine their sparks first-hand... that would give a direction to explore the errors and possibilities."
Megatron did not answer at first, he stole a glance towards Soundwave above Shockwave's shoulder plate - he knew the telepath had been listening to more than just their words. Starscream followed his optics with a frown, but the only thing he saw now was the blue gladiator getting up from the computer after he had finished his work for the cycle. The Seeker narrowed his optics, but the next moment he felt the familiar massive black hand on his upper arm, inches from brushing his wing.
"We shall discuss your propositions further." he said to the both of them, letting go of Starscream's upper arm, "I value your insights, but this is why we cannot emerge yet; I want everything perfected and ready before we stand up against anything. Cooperation is a key factor. Do not forget that."
He then left the two mechs and went over to Soundwave to discuss whatever he felt necessary. Starscream looked after him before turning quickly back to the roboticist before him when, for the first time since they met, Shockwave addressed him directly,
"Senator," he began, "may I ask... what you have gained your doctorate in?"
Starscream stood straight, a tiny, but all the more beaming smile blossomed on his face, "Evolutionary mechanobiology. I published in the Natural Cybertron and I was part of three exploration teams."
"I wonder what made you give it up for... politics."
The senator huffed, "We all change over time."
Shockwave hummed, "Yes, I can imagine." he murmured and tilted his head to the side, "I will be holding a lecture at the Assembly of Praxus about the evolution of mitotic sparks. Since you have studied atechnogenesis, as you claim, perhaps we could... share experiences?"
Starscream noticed the challenge in the dean's words and a smirk came to life on his lips, "One of our teams just got back from an organic planet." he said, putting his hands on his hips, "Let me show you."
He looked towards Skywarp, already telling him through their comm. link their destination and the teleporter got up with a great sigh. Just as the three mechs disappeared, Soundwave also turned to leave the hall until Rumble's voice stopped him, "Where ya going?"
"To Blaster." he replied calmly, "He has invited me to his home. He wants to talk."
Frenzy flashed him a cheeky grin, "At home? So soon?"
"Frenzy," Soundwave's tone was sincerely annoyed, "desist."
"Do you know where's Crasher?" Rumble asked, frowning - his behavior, exceptionally, the more subdued of the two, "Haven't seen her in cycles."
"If I am well informed," his creator said quietly, "she is having a match in a joor."
Having said enough, Soundwave turned around and left the hall. He had promised, after all, that he wouldn't stand in the way and let responsibility fall upon those it belonged to.
The vertigo from the teleportation finally faded away and Shockwave looked around with interest in the large section of the Natural History Museum of Vos. Starscream described it as his and Skyfire's section - mainly collections from their explorer missions, expanded to contain the recently brought samples - and was decorated with Cybertronian and alien specimens, organic and inorganic. The Cybertronian part was mainly Starscream's contribution, as he said.
"The most I dealt with sparks though was the non-karyotic sparklets of protonanites." Starscream folded his hands behind his back as they walked along the lines and pictures of specimens, "I have always been more interested in the... macroscopic."
"I see." Shockwave murmured, never tearing his optics from the enlarged pictures of six-legged, winged creatures, "What did you say, how far is this planet?"
"About four reks, one quick bridge away. The system's central star can be seen from this hemisphere." Starscream pointed up to one of the pictures, a creature with a similarly elongated body but with two pairs of colorfully spotted wings, "These are the latest specimens from that planet. Carbon-based organics, all of them. They burn oxygen for energy and water takes up about 75% of their bodies."
Shockwave did not interrupt the senator, he appeared to be rather talkative now in his comfort zone - or just simply glad he had the chance to impress the other scientist. The dean would have never imagined he would be listening to one of those he loathed talk about science with such interest, even the Seeker's EM field seemed to have expanded, pride burnt bright in his optics. Shockwave couldn't have denied that he also found the section fascinating - he had never been particularly interested in the study of alien evolution, but life comes in wonderful forms.
Wonderful and truly intriguing...
"These are," Starscream deactivated the shield from one of the tables and picked up a tiny vial just fitting between his two digits - inside was a green creature, similarly six-legged, but its last pair of legs were longer and thicker, its wings transparent and antennae unnaturally long. Shockwave had to zoom his optics a bit to see it clearly, "one of the insects of that world."
"Insectoids are common on Dykayra as well, if I recall. Although in much bigger size."
"Ah, yes. Small ones exist here, on Cybertron, too, though... they had been much more common in the past. Recently, insect-like mechanoids can only be found at the few remaining swamps below mountains. But these little guys," Starscream held up the vial for Shockwave to see, "are the most diverse group on that planet. So many forms and shapes, sizes, in such numbers that there may still be species we haven't discovered yet. They are everywhere. Quite a successful group."
Successful in regards of evolution, and Shockwave found that his thoughts unconsciously drifted back to his mentor's prohibited publications. The one that mentioned that, if Cybertronians continued like this, their race would reach a stagnant state - to be stalling in an illusion of perfection. Until it decided to move on. Until it was forced to move on.
"Senator Starscream," Shockwave took the delicate vial from the Seeker's hand and lifted it up to his optics, "may I ask for a copy of the studies about these creatures? They have caught my interest."
Starscream smirked and put his hands on his hips, his purpose fulfilled, "Suit yourself."
"Hey... Soundwave, you okay?"
Blaster frowned when he saw the other dual-spark's unsure steps, the slight sway in his stance when he stepped out of the ground bridge. The Altihexian side wasn't nearly as crowded as the Iaconian, so Blaster assumed it wasn't the large number of robots that affected him this time. He hurried up to the blue mech to steady him, Soundwave's vents made soft, quiet sounds as it slowly circled air to his systems.
"I am fine." he said, "I had a match this cycle and—"
"You had a match?!" Blaster exclaimed, "You weren't repaired correctly?"
"I was, Blaster, don't worry." Soundwave put a hand on the journalist's shoulder, "I left the repair ward early. I had work to do and you wanted to see me."
Blaster huffed, "If I knew you had a match... we could've met another time, no one's holdin' a gun to our heads, you know." they started walking out of the bridge nexus, "And, er... why didn't you tell me about this match?"
Soundwave shook his head slowly, "You wouldn't have wanted to see it."
"Why, I've seen ya fight bef—..." Blaster frowned, his optics wandered to the ground, "You had to... kill again?"
The telepath nodded, he could feel that Blaster could barely suppress a shudder, the dreadful picture of Cy-Kill's damaged body and his spark in Soundwave's hand surfaced in his mind. The happy waves previously in his EM field gave way to cool stillness for that long moment. Soundwave didn't know how to react to it; Blaster was always so cheerful, even when he had a problem he tried to hide it with smiles and shining attitude, this forlorn expression that crossed his face was so unlike the mech he knew Soundwave unconsciously entered his mind, yearning to see what he really thought and the feeling caused Blaster to jump a little, his head shot up and overly bright optics met Soundwave's amber ones.
"I apologize—"
"Let's not talk about it." Blaster murmured and frowned again in feigned pique, "And don't apologize for everything you say, 'kay? No offense taken, I was just... surprised, s'all. You haven't done that in a long time."
He really hadn't. Soundwave got used to reading Blaster only by his many expressions, he didn't need to look inside to know the truth. It was like an instinct in a situation he couldn't handle, a defense mechanism. Soundwave gave a nod and leant on the other dual-spark, letting exhaustion seep through his limbs before he would have to transform again.
"Right on time." Blaster said all of a sudden, looking out to the road, "Our transport's here."
Now it was Soundwave's turn to frown, "You called for transport?"
"Well," Blaster cocked an optical ridge, "since you're too tired to drive any more, yeah, didn't wanna exert you."
A large mech with the alt mode of a van pulled up beside them and opened his doors for them. Robots so robust volunteered to work at transportation services to add to their payment - or as the only source of payment for some, thus it wasn't rare when a transformer offered such services without official employment just to get more credits. It was mainly used by those who had immobile alternate modes, though public transports were still more sought. The Monorail Transport that extended from Protihex to Altihex through Iacon was quite a popular attraction in the northern region.
Soundwave didn't say it out loud, but he was grateful he didn't have to drive again. He knew Blaster lived near the city center - he did his fair share of research about the other dual-spark - and even there the traffic was much thicker than what he was used to in Stanix and Kaon from what he gathered about Altihex.
"From your slight accent," Soundwave spoke up for the first time as they went further inside the city state, "I thought you have lived in Iacon for some stellar cycles."
Blaster shrugged with a grin, "I spend all cycle there at the Newsfeed, sometimes I only bridge home to recharge. We... thought about moving there since Rewind started workin' at the Kimia, but the others have jobs here in Altihex, so we stayed. And... you? I understand things went really bad in Stanix, but why Kaon? Why not Tarn? Much more opportunities, ya could've been employed in your own profession."
It was true, and Soundwave had thought about that - but after all that happened, after his former employer made sure his name would be known to computer managements and comms. services, he had no illusions about going to Tarn. He suspected that in Kaon word hadn't reached its target yet and he could care less about working in communications as long as he could earn some credits with anything at all.
"To tell you the truth," he began quietly, "since Kaon and Tarn are the closest states to Stanix... we considered both with my creations. We didn't decide in the end. We went to the ground bridge nexus and... decided to enter whichever gate opened first. Kaon's bridge was the first to light up, the first way to open up before us."
Blaster hummed, "Guess I never lived through what you did. You're strong."
Soundwave had nothing to say to that. He was not yet ready to say any more about their decisions.
The transporter mech was just as big in robot mode when he transformed to get his credits with Blaster. The journalist's house wasn't very large, it had two floors for space for all his creations, just comfortable for all of them. Music played, and only Eject and Ramhorn were home at the time, their break just started; Soundwave carefully kneeled down to greet them when they came up to him while Blaster prepared some energon for the two of them.
When they entered Blaster's room, it was a bit more puritan than what Soundwave expected - apart from a shiny electro-bass, only a wide berth and two shelves took place. The table under the inbuilt computer was what looked more crowded than anything Soundwave ever saw on his colleagues' at the InfoCore - there were different types of shunts, data slugs, plugs of various kind, both for devices and for direct neural entrance into the DataNet matrix, an enormous speaker and, on one of the shelves, tons of music traxes.
"Nothing like home." Blaster grinned when he saw Soundwave's bemused expression. He handed him one of the cubes and they sat down on the berth, "You've got some difficulty movin'." he said, frowning.
"Nothing I cannot handle." the telepath replied calmly, "I'm just tired. You wanted to talk about something."
Blaster chuckled, "Right into the middle of it, ain't ya? Allow me to enjoy you being here a bit."
Soundwave let his guard down and allowed his limbs to relax. The music seeped into the room and provided a pleasant background for their conversation. Soundwave could detect a faint aftertaste in the energon Blaster had given him, the kind that a soluble nanite capsule would leave.
"You gave me nanites?" he asked with slight surprise.
"GaB-A075. It's weak." Blaster answered, "You couldn't hide that limping and those winces." the red mech raised an optical ridge.
Soundwave gave a nod. It was a common suppressant for smaller pains found in all households - it was popular because it could be given to both sparklings and adults, they had them at home, too, before they left Stanix. At the arena, the medics only had two kinds of suppressant nanites, one weaker and a stronger type and they worked around with applying different concentrations from the nanites for the various injuries.
"Thank you." he said, "it is really thoughtful."
Blaster heaved a great sigh, "You know, sometimes you gotta take care of yourself... so you can take care of others." the red dual-spark smiled a little, "And, eh... alright, now if we're there. I called you because I've been thinkin' about what you said. About patronage. I made my own research," he pointed to the shunts and plugs on his table below the computer, "but I hardly found anything 'bout it."
"It is an age-old tradition. Part of the world of the gladiatorial games." Soundwave replied quietly, "The only things Cybertronians know about this world is what the audience can see from the fights. The rest is... our business."
Blaster smirked, "So, I should feel honored now that you invite me to this?" he didn't receive an answer and knew his fellow dual-spark enough not to expect one, and he went on, "I was... I've been thinking, too. And I have a proposition."
His voice turned serious from the teasing tone and he leant closer to Soundwave before he spoke again, "We have an empty seat at the news agency. Info gathering. Just what you do best..."
An icy wave thundered down Soundwave's frame, the cube froze in his hand. Blaster was inviting him back to the computers again, what he did at the InfoCore, for the largest news agency in Iacon - on Cybertron. At a place where everything about him was only a button away for anyone to see. Where his past would be exposed in mere klicks and he would be thrown from much higher...
"...one mega-cycle of probation and you would earn enough to buy your freedom from that place... Soundwave?"
Blaster brushed his EM field to his, radiating worry and confusion and Soundwave put down his cube. There was more than one reason to refuse the offer, however enticing it might have seemed at first. What Soundwave could have done at the news agency he was already doing at the underground hall of the gladiatorial arena without any limits or rules. And by now, it was more than a mere need that kept him fighting in the rings - his life had gained purpose again, a new hope he was willing to fight and sacrifice for and a friend he trusted. A purpose for not only him but his creations as well, a grand vision that would shatter their world and he would be one of the movers of the new era.
He couldn't give it all up now. Not even for Blaster.
"Blaster... I cannot leave." he said, his voice determined, "I am bound to that world in ways you don't understand. I don't ask you to understand just yet."
The expression that formed on Blaster's face was that of pure disappointment and confusion, like an innocent loss Soundwave had seen many times before. Yet, when it was about Blaster, he didn't know what to do with it; his spark contracted in his chest, an uncomfortable pull that he tried to override without much success.
"Then..." the journalist's voice was fainter and the electric undertone made it sound slightly raspy, "I will talk to that master of yours. Ask 'im how much he wants and I'll buy your freedom. I don't want you to stay there... once you'll get seriously hurt and what if—"
Soundwave raised up his hand to stop him, "I appreciate it," he placed his hand onto Blaster's, the other dual-spark turned it upwards and gave it a gentle squeeze, "but I can't accept the offer. I'm sorry."
Blaster turned his gaze down, his shoulders dropped in a heavy sigh. When he finally looked up, he tilted his head to the side just a little and a sad smile graced his lips, "Well..." he muttered, "it was worth a shot. Think about it, though. I'll make sure that place won't be filled... until you say so."
He raised a hand slowly, the movement hesitant and careful, and touched the tips of his digits to Soundwave's naked face. The other remained calm and bowed his head just enough to make more contact with Blaster's digits. Encouraged, the red mech's smile grew brighter and slid his palm onto that face, "Still hurt?"
"No." Soundwave replied and stayed still, waiting, when his fellow dual-spark leant closer and allowed their lips to meet, Blaster's nasal plate brushed his cheek. He let their fields envelope and harmonize and just started to lean closer himself when the front door hissed open and loud footsteps could be heard trapping inside.
Blaster huffed and shook his head, "Typical." he murmured, "That'll be Flipsides. She's early."
"At least I get to meet her."
Blaster laughed and patted his shoulder, "Always be on the bright side, got it."
Flipsides was Blaster's eldest creation - she inherited a lighter shade of Blaster's brilliant red colors and she had a similar EM field and mental pattern as her siblings. Right now, she was vibrating with excitement and trying to tell Eject something so fast her words stumbled. She didn't even notice her creator and Soundwave emerge, she whirled around when Blaster squeezed her shoulder plate gently.
"You're gonna glitch talkin' so fast." he said with an amused smirk, managing to shut his creation's buzzing vocalizer long enough to introduce her to Soundwave.
"Sorry, I'm just..." Flipsides grabbed Blaster's hand, grinning still with thrill, "We got the permission to start excavating at the northern quadrant of the City at the base of Vestum Peak!"
Soundwave where that peak was - it was part of the Tagan Heights range where it met the Mitteous Plateau, that was where Crystal City arose. Many legends circled around Cybertron about it being the first city and the City of Primus, however, studies revealed that Damaxus was the oldest city on the planet, not Crystal City, but it was one of the most ancient. Before the city itself, a metrotitan lay there, one of the first thirteen that became home to the tribes wandering the surface of the planet. In the old language, the titan was called Trion, but modern translations note the name's pronunciation as Triax. Some of the titans like Caminus, Aegiax and Thetacon either left Cybertron and left their inhabitants to build up their cities in their places on their own, some just moved to another location - some, like Glibax or Esserlon were still where they had been for millions of stellar cycles, providing home for many.
As Soundwave recalled, Kaon's ground itself was once held by a metrotitan, Diaclon, home to the Diaclona Tribe when they finally settled down. When the titan left, the robots who had been harvested from his hot spots, from his mythical connection to the AllSpark, built the city of Kaon in his place and their prime, nowadays known as the Fallen continued to rule them for many Cycles to come. Yet, to this cycle, Crystal City remained the most famous of the ancient cities.
"...and found symbols on it that pre-date even Primal Vernacular! It must be something important, even the authorities barely wanted to let us in there." Flipsides kept bubbling, turning to her brother, "Eject, don't you want to come?"
"You're seriously asking me that?" the blue twin jumped up, "Nothing can hold me back!"
Blaster chuckled quietly next to Soundwave, earning the telepath's attention, "They've worked together at the sites before." he said, "Flipsides's an archeometrist and Eject is archeologist. Took them a whole cycle to explain the difference to me."
Soundwave smiled and listened to the sibling's chatter once again. What Flipsides said caught his attention. He had heard some of the legends about Crystal City, how the wisest robots Cybertron had ever seen were all sparked there, how fertile that land was and one of the legendary gates to Vector Sigma opened at the City's vicinity...
He had never been particularly interested in legends. Soundwave always liked facts - simple, clean facts. But when a legend gained historical evidence, that was something worth exploring. He needed to dig himself into the files of the DataNet and InfoCore matrix, at least to satisfy his curiosity.
Just as these thoughts reached a destination in his processor, on the other side of the planet Crasher collapsed from the mighty pain bursting in her spark chamber.
Crasher listened to the even beating sound the spark monitor registered from her chamber. Flatline just left her to rest after they finally stabilized her laser core and synchronized the conductive filaments to the tiny energy bubble from her spark. The protomass did not receive irreversible damage from the beating she got from Cliffjumper - she remembered her fellow gladiator's frightened expression when she suddenly doubled over in pain, clutching her chest as if she wanted to rip the plates off.
The mini-con took a deep vent, letting the air fill her still overheated frame, she watched the light purple energon drip to the line that was attached to the medical port on her side. Her fuel pump wasn't racing now, only the ache of her injuries remained - the medics gave her only mild suppressants in order not to overwhelm her systems. Nothing she wouldn't survive.
The physical part, yes. That she would survive.
Crasher touched her chest plates carefully that, just half a joor ago, were still wide open along with her spark casing with three medics buried in her midsection to prevent the microcataclysm from escalating. Just in time to stop the newspark from destabilizing to the point of no return. She had never felt such pure fear before - as if the claws of Unicron were suffocating her soul, as if the pain of life was screaming at her, grabbing at her.
Now she felt nothing. There were too many emotions and sensations at once that she couldn't compute anymore. Her digits moved lightly between the sensors attached to her plates and protoform, no longer trembling. She looked down at the invisible traces her digits left and let her hand fall, turning her head away. She knew the rumors of what happened to her would soon reach the other gladiators, and even though Flatline swore not to tell anyone the cause apart from Megatron and Onslaught, she didn't know what would come out of it.
Another, cold hand touched her arm. Rumble stood before her.
His expression reminded Crasher of the younglings at the alleys when their small cubes of energon were taken from their hands. She hated that look, but couldn't find it in herself to turn away. The two mini-cons just stared at each other as the klicks passed, neither moving or speaking, both felt equally lost. It was Rumble in the end who moved, climbing up on the berth to sit next to the femme and Crasher could almost see his struggle to form the words he wanted to say.
"You... you're okay now?" he finally asked, his voice adequately quiet.
"I guess." Crasher replied. Was she okay, really? She couldn't tell. "I thought you would..." her cables around her throat tightened, "Soundwave told you?"
The mini-mech frowned, "Soundwave? No, he... no, no, I jus'... Look, Soundwave taught us things. Like, what could happen when a newspark extinguishes. And after what we did, it wasn't hard to guess. I mean, even I could do it on my own."
That finally brought the weakest of smiles to Crasher's face. Always joking it away, playing the funny guy... It felt good, just this once.
"You're not leaving?" she asked eventually and bore her optics into Rumble's crimson ones. The other just shook his head with an amused huff.
"Ya really don't get it, huh? Even after you felt it all during the merge. Not. Leaving." Rumble pointed a digit at her head, but his expression and movements became more timid the next moment when he gestured to Crasher's chest, "It's... still there, right?"
The femme nodded slowly, "Right there. Doesn't wanna leave that easily. I have no idea who that reminds me of..." she rolled her optics and sighed, "I don't want to... think about it. Not yet. Okay? We're not talking... better if we're not talking."
Another, disappointed frown, "But—"
"Rumble, it's not abou—..."
Crasher looked past his shoulder, her optics widening and Rumble turned around, too. His fuel pump skipped a beat when he saw Megatron walking up to their berth with an unreadable expression on his face, steps measured and stance straight. Rumble climbed off the berth as the champion stood by their side and, without tearing his optics from Crasher, he said,
"Leave now, Rumble."
The silent order left no place for arguing and the purple twin turned to leave, but at the entrance of the repair ward he cast one last glance at the two on the other side just in time to see Megatron reach out to touch Crasher's face and wipe away the wild stream of coolant that rolled down her plate. He watched for a little longer, enough that it wouldn't seem like disobeying, and turned to walk out of the ward.
The wind was cold and biting outside.
Thank you for reading! :)
I placed Earth four reks (rek = parsec) away from Cybertron, that's a little more than 13 lightyears. Just to be clear. :)
Night!