Astrotrain's engines rumbled low as he touched down on Cybertron, his battered passengers disembarking one by one. Starscream led the way, his voice sharp with triumph as he declared himself the new leader of the Decepticons. The others followed, some limping, some too drained to argue. For now, no one dared challenge him—not openly.
Soundwave was the last to leave, his massive frame descending with quiet precision. He said nothing, offering only the faintest inclination of his head as Starscream barked orders about his impending coronation. The self-proclaimed leader demanded loyalty, and Starscream's sharp optics lingered on Soundwave for a moment, as if waiting for defiance. There was none.
Starscream sneered. "Soundwave, ensure all communications are secure. I won't have any interruptions during my coronation—especially from stragglers loyal to Megatron."
Soundwave replied in his steady monotone, "Acknowledged."
Satisfied with what he perceived as compliance, Starscream turned on his heel, already reveling in his assumed power. Soundwave remained still, his visor reflecting the dim, flickering lights of the metallic corridors. His silence was deliberate, a shield carefully constructed to conceal the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
As the Decepticons dispersed, Soundwave began to move, his steps measured and deliberate. Every interaction, every detail, was committed to memory. He knew Starscream's paranoia was acute; the newly crowned leader would be watching for signs of dissent. But Soundwave's silence disarmed suspicion. He spoke only when necessary, offered no challenges, and carried out his tasks with unwavering efficiency.
The stronghold was quieter now, the Decepticons scattered to carry out their orders. Soundwave stepped into a dimly lit chamber and summoned his cassettes. One by one, they emerged from his chest compartment, their movements fluid as they awaited his commands.
"Laserbeak," Soundwave intoned, his voice low but firm, "monitor Starscream. Report all activities."
Laserbeak chirped an acknowledgment and launched into the shadows, his wings barely audible in the stillness.
"Ravage," Soundwave continued, "patrol perimeter. Detect threats."
The sleek feline growled softly, slipping away into the labyrinthine corridors.
Soundwave's visor shifted to Rumble and Frenzy. "Prepare for departure. Mission: recovery of Megatron."
Rumble cracked his knuckles with a grin. "Finally! Time to bring the boss back."
"Affirmative," Soundwave replied.
Even as he spoke, his mind worked tirelessly, piecing together the steps needed for the mission. He had calculated Astrotrain's fuel capacity long before their journey began. The triple-changer had lied about his reserves, forcing Megatron and the others to be cast out. Soundwave had no doubt Megatron still functioned; the faint pulse of their telepathic tether confirmed it. Weak and distant, yes, but undeniably alive.
For now, though, he needed to bide his time. Starscream's coronation was both a blessing and a curse. It ensured most of the Decepticons would be occupied, but it also made any sudden absence more conspicuous. Soundwave could not afford to draw attention—not yet. His cover had to be flawless, his movements precise.
Returning to the corridors, Soundwave resumed his role as the ever-present sentinel. Starscream's orders were carried out with meticulous efficiency, reinforcing the illusion of unquestioning loyalty. The new leader was too busy reveling in his victory to notice the subtle machinations at work. Soundwave, as always, operated in the shadows.
Patience was key. Each moment brought him closer to the opportunity he needed. His silence, his stoicism, were not submission but strategy.
Astrotrain lingered near the central console of the command room, his optics darting nervously across the room as if expecting someone to call him out. His servos fidgeted at his sides, and his weight shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Though he tried to appear composed, his discomfort was as clear to Soundwave as a flashing alert. Astrotrain's actions aboard the ship—the lie about the fuel shortage, the decision to cast Megatron and the others out—now hung over him like a storm cloud, and the consequences of those choices had followed him to Cybertron.
Soundwave stood at his usual position, the communications console, his imposing frame a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the dimly lit command room. His visor glowed faintly as his hands moved deliberately over the console's interface. On the surface, he appeared to be fulfilling Starscream's orders: securing the network, monitoring transmissions, and ensuring no interference would disrupt the coronation. To anyone else, he was simply doing his duty, ever the efficient and loyal Communications Officer.
But Soundwave's true purpose went far beyond his outward actions. Each input he made was carefully calculated, each connection he accessed chosen with precision. He was reconfiguring the console's systems, creating a temporary loop that would allow it to run autonomously in his absence. Once activated, it would simulate his presence, continuing to monitor and log activity while rerouting critical alerts to his cassettes. This would give the illusion that Soundwave was still actively managing communications, even when he was gone.
Astrotrain's unease deepened as his optics flitted toward Soundwave. Perhaps he sensed something—or perhaps his own guilt made him paranoid. Soundwave paid him no outward attention, though his internal processors cataloged every micro-expression, every shift in posture. Astrotrain's nervousness was a liability, but it was also an opportunity. The triple-changer was desperate to avoid scrutiny, and desperation often led to mistakes.
A soft chirp from the console signaled the completion of another subroutine. Soundwave's monotone voice broke the silence, issuing a brief report. "Communications network: secure. Interference: minimal."
Starscream, lounging at the center of the room as though it were a throne, barely glanced in Soundwave's direction. "Of course it's secure," he scoffed. "You wouldn't dare let it fail during my coronation."
"Affirmative," Soundwave replied, his tone neutral, his attention seemingly focused on his work.
As Starscream turned his attention back to his plans, Soundwave continued his preparations. He encrypted a secondary channel, one that only his cassettes could access. Through it, Laserbeak and Ravage would monitor Starscream's movements while Soundwave was away, ensuring that no significant events went unnoticed. Rumble and Frenzy would assist him directly on the mission to retrieve Megatron.
The final step was the most delicate. Soundwave needed to program an automatic override that would activate his simulations should anyone attempt to access the console. This layer of protection was critical; Starscream's paranoia might drive him to investigate, and Soundwave could not afford to have his absence discovered prematurely.
Astrotrain shifted again, this time edging closer to the command console. His optics flicked toward Soundwave, then away, as though he couldn't decide whether to speak. Soundwave ignored him, his hands continuing their deliberate work. But internally, he noted the movement. If Astrotrain grew bold enough to approach, Soundwave was prepared to redirect him with a question or a task—anything to keep the triple-changer occupied and away from his true purpose.
Another soft chirp confirmed the system was ready. The console now appeared fully functional, capable of maintaining the illusion of Soundwave's presence. Satisfied, he straightened and turned his full attention to Astrotrain. The triple-changer flinched slightly under the weight of Soundwave's gaze.
"Statement: efficiency critical. Compliance required," Soundwave intoned, his voice steady and impassive. It was a simple reminder, but one that carried weight. Astrotrain hesitated, then nodded quickly, retreating a step.
For now, everything was in place. Soundwave's preparations were complete, the system primed to maintain order in his absence.