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repining-seamonster · 1 year ago

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Forgot What It Feels Like 1/3

SoundStar Transformers (a mix of G1/IDW/whatever else) Rating: teen+

Chapter One: Something Like Luck

The first time Soundwave saw him was in dirty alleyway in Kaon in the dead of night. He was being thrown out the back door of a busy bar by two mechs twice his bulk, both of them scowling nastily; but they weren’t simply tossing out an unruly drunk.

Soundwave has been watching the streets from the shadows of the alley, senses carefully opened just a fraction to get a feel for the mechs shambling by, searching, when the door had slammed out with a sudden cacophony of noise from inside.

They didn’t notice him, too busy trying to wrangle a mech who was kicking them viciously and swiping at them with sharply pointed digits. Curses spewing from his intake, calling them all manner of creative insults so colorful that Soundwave couldn’t help but stare. Though their frame mass was larger by far, even the two of them seemed to struggle tossing the mech to the ground.

He was very clearly over-charged. Despite this, he was doing an impressive job at clinging to their kibble whilst simultaneously trying to inflict as much damage as he could.

With a final shout of, “Don’t you fragging dare–!”, one of the mechs managed to pry him off the other with a screech of metal and throw him bodily against the wall of the adjacent building. Where his helm cracked against the weathered metal with a reverberating clang and he finally slumped, unmoving.

Soundwave waited until the bar’s bouncers went back inside, sporting numerous scratches and dents, and the door slammed shut again. Relative quiet returned to the alley immediately.

No one from the street even glanced over during the whole scene, no one caring to notice the mech except for him. And the first thing he noticed were wings.

It was, after all, the entire reason he was out here.

The second thing he took in, as he slowly and quietly approached, was exactly how out of place this mech looked. Flight frames weren’t terribly common in Kaon, a seeker even less so; and if that wasn’t enough, he was undoubtedly the cleanest mech in the city. Even slouched in a filthy back alley.

The view in Kaon was dull, it’s populace included. This seeker, however, looked polished and bright. From sky-blue servos and thrusters, to his red and white bodywork. Not even the sickly yellow lighting from the street could make him look dull.

Though it might if he stayed for too long. There was no doubt in Soundwave’s mind that this mech was from somewhere else. Somewhere with well-kept infrastructure and easy access both basic needs and luxuries alike.

What he was doing slag-faced in a decrepit bar in central Kaon, was a complete mystery. For now.

He kneeled next to the unmoving frame, placing a careful hand on his helm and gingerly tilting it back to see if the mech was still functioning or if the blow had knocked his processor loose.

In hindsight, after what he’d just witnessed, he should have taken more care to be cautious. For, while he prided himself on having a well-tuned reaction time, he barely managed to catch the servo of sharp digits as they struck out quickly for his neck cables.

He was far more prepared for the second attempt with the other servo, and soon found himself being stared down by a pair of fiercely bright optics; holding both servos in a firm grip. He struggled, of course, Soundwave would have been more surprised had he not.

Over-charged and still dizzy from the blow, the mech could only growl in frustration at first. Not seeming to remember how to work his glossa again quite yet. So Soundwave spoke first.

“Cease.” He kept his tone flat, volume even, trying to convey in a single word that the seeker had nothing to fight him over. “Intention: not to harm.”

“Like sla-a-a-a-ag, creep!”

His voice box glitched profoundly. Though Soundwave made no comment on it, he felt a wash of humiliation trickle through the mech’s field. His expression morphed into something complicated, a look of horror twisting into an indignant scowl.

Soundwave had to in-vent deeply to keep himself centered, not letting the mech’s over-charged emotions overwhelm him.

“Suggestion: reboot voice box.” This time, he even softened his tone, trying to convey an air of peace, hoping it would somewhat soothe the incensed seeker. “Intention: not to harm, true.”

The seeker was still glaring at him, still trying to pull from his grasp. But Soundwave recognized the soft shutter and click of the reboot. He was hesitant, but this mech was clearly what Megatron would refer to as “scrappy”. He needed a way to calm him.

It went against Soundwave’s better judgment, but he was lacking in options. So he looked the mech in his vibrant optics and gently reached out with his own field. Brushing it oh-so-carefully against the prickly field of the other, projecting his sincere will to simply help, not harm.

The seeker’s expressional capabilities were as colorful as his insults, because his scowl vanished in a nano-second to be replaced but a stunned look of confusion.

For a fraction of a second, his tightly guarded field shuddered, revealing a crack of unguarded emotion. Almost without meaning to, Soundwave found himself slipping through that crack.

And what he felt on the other side wasn’t altogether unfamiliar to him.

There was agony in the seeker’s spark and mind. A deep hole of loss and fury swirling like a tornado born from the violent winds of a life spent being cast aside and trod on simply for being sparked as who he was.

Soundwave wouldn’t pretend to understand the details of this mech’s unfortunate life; but he could, at the very least, empathize with his pain.

The seeker had stopped struggling against his hold, Soundwave realized; staring at him with wide optics and a churning processor, trying to understand the strange sensation that had invaded him for just a moment.

For an over-charged mech he was… surprisingly sharp. Had Soundwave been a less pragmatic mech, he’d almost think this meeting was fate.

But he was a pragmatic mech, and he simply thanked his good fortune for finding exactly what Megatron had asked for so quickly.

Now he need only to recruit him.

However, Soundwave didn’t get the chance to even begin to introduce himself. For, as soon as he opened his intake, he was paused by a strange sensation himself. A tickle of electricity growing in the air behind him, sparks of purple coalescing quickly into a crackle.

A crackle that became a pop of spacial displacement. Again, Soundwave found himself quickly ducking to avoid the fist swinging hard for his helm.

“Hands off!!”

It was a moot command, Soundwave had already released the first seeker, rolling a few feet away and allowing the second seeker to overbalance himself with the force of his punch and land in his friend’s lap in a heap.

He recovered quickly enough, turning around to raise his fists again in defense. Wings flared behind him in a clear threat display, hiding his friend from Soundwave’s view. Over-charge had him wobbling but still valiantly defiant, ready for a fight.

Soundwave raised both servos slowly in a clear display of peace. Though he hated repeating himself to this degree, he was willing to do it once more.

“Intention: not to harm.”

To his surprise, the purple seeker snorted loudly in disbelief, voice derisive. “I know what your intentions are, fragger. You’ll get to him over over my deactivated frame!”

Behind the furious seeker, Soundwave heard a faint (but pleased?) utterance of: “Skywarp...”

“Negative.” Soundwave shook his helm, taking another deep in-vent. He’d had no idea seekers had such chaotically overwhelming E.M. fields. “Intention: to assist only.”

Despite his protests, this Skywarp still growled threateningly, looking ready throw-down regardless of Soundwave’s intentions. Pointlessly protective of a mech who had been in no danger from him to begin with.

From behind him, Soundwave could hear the other seeker pushing up from the ground.

“Skywarp,” he said again, and the purple seeker’s wings lowered a fraction. Not his fists though. And though he didn’t take his optics off of Soundwave, Skywarp tilted his helm enough to ask his friend, “He hurt you?”

“As if he could.”

A blue hand appeared under a purple wing, touching Skywarp’s waist gently. Red optics peered out at Soundwave from over the top edge of that same wing, sharp and contemplative. Portraying no pain in regards to the blow his helm had received.

“I do believe he wants something, though.”

“A broken intake?” Skywarp quipped, making that sharp gaze shine with amusement.

“Why don’t we ask him?”

“Negative.”

Soundwave tried to shake off the feeling that he was losing control of the situation. Despite that, he couldn’t help feeling doubly fortunate. Two seekers in Kaon, he almost couldn’t believe his luck.

Charged up and confrontational aside, they were everything Megatron had asked for and then some . Everything the Decepticons needed right now. He needed to do this right.

“What do you want, creep?” Skywarp asked, stubbornly keeping his defensive position.

Over his wing, the other seeker watched him closely.

There was something about the edge in his gaze that gave Soundwave the impression the he was the one to appeal to. “Intention: to assist. To… talk.”

“Whatever about?”

“Justice–”

Skywarp made a constipated face of confusion. “Justice?”

“--and equality.”

“Politics?” His voice drawled the word with all the contempt of a privileged mecha, but his unrelenting gaze did not match his tone. Soundwave knew he was being measured silently by the other, knew that he’d taken notice of the insignia Soundwave wore proudly on his chest.

“Orrr, perhaps you’re referring to… something else?”

“Affirmative. Query.”

“Go on.”

“Reason for being in Kaon?”

It was hardly a sight-seeing city, especially on the cusp of revolution.

They were both silent a moment. Despite not communicating in a way Soundwave could hear, he could feel that they were conferring with one another through other means.

Not a comm link, but something more.

Eventually, Skywarp answered. “We’re here for the fights.”

“Query: the gladiatorial arena?”

“Yeah, the pits or whatever. Whatsit to you?”

Skywarp was the one talking, but Soundwave was certain the other was calling the shots. So he addressed him.

“Query: true reason for visiting the gladiatorial arena?”

“You got a rock for a processor? I just told you–”

“Reason: not to view the fights.”

Skywarp’s faceplates went nearly as purple as his armor, but before he could he could attempt to lay into Soundwave, the servo on his waist snaked around into a firmer hold as the other seeker stepped closer.

The tone of his voice was… carefully nonchalant.

“Whatever other reason would there be?”

“And whatsit to you?” Skywarp repeated himself forcefully.

Without breaking the seeker’s gaze, Soundwave laid a servo over his own chest. “Designation: Soundwave. Purpose: seeking capable warriors.”

“This is your coliseum’s idea of a recruitment tactic?" The seeker behind finally sauntered around to stand in front of his friend, frame shorter by a matter of inches.

Skywarp dropped his fists at last, but instead wrapped protective arms around his friend's shoulders and waist, watching Soundwave for any funny business. Their positions effectively switched.

"Unless…" Those sharp optics traced his insignia purposefully, tips of his wings flicking minutely against Skywarp’s chest. "Unless it isn't the coliseum you work for, Soundwave."

The way he let Soundwave’s designation roll off of his glossa was not a way most mecha addressed him. He was accustomed to being either disregarded or somewhat feared.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard anyone murmur it in the low, playful tone the seeker in front of him was using.

"Affirmative."

The seeker looked smug, though Soundwave couldn’t fathom why. He was also more than happy to keep talking, however.

“I’ve heard… rumors. Chitters on the wind telling me of some ambitious freedom fighters out here in this Primus-forsaken, backwater town who’ve been stirring up quite a fair bit of excitement. Making things, dare I say, difficult for a certain functionalist tyrant?”

Had Soundwave not witnessed it himself, he’d never know this mech had just taken such a hard blow to the back of the helm. He shifted in Skywarp’s arms with a sultry smile, sharp optics still bright and calculating.

The way he spoke was somehow flippant and careful simultaneously. Everything about the seeker oozed confidence, control, contradiction .

He placed a blue servo over the black one on his waist, tilting his helm to hum, “now what were they calling themselves again, Skywarp?”

“Deadicons?”

“Decepticons,” Soundwave corrected, never taking his optics off of the shorter of the two, who hummed thoughtfully.

“No, I rather think Skywarp is on to something. Only mechs with a wish for a swift deactivation would dare cross the might of Sentinel Prime. Judging by the state of this pit of a city, I’m starting to think they may be nothing more than a band of thugs fated to be rounded up and eradicated in a public display of what happens when the will of a Prime is disobeyed.”

Skywarp snickered and Soundwave could tell what was happening. This seeker clearly already had an interest, which did half of Soundwave’s job for him, but he was fishing for more. It was reasonable. No sensible mech would throw themselves into a revolution without knowing the strength of the side they were choosing to fight for.

“Negative,” he repeated. “Decepticons are growing in number, and in strength.”

“Is that why you’re lurking in back alleys for over-charged recruits?”

“Soundwave: searching for capable flight frames to expand our capabilities.”

Red eyes widened. “Ohoho, flight frames, hm?”

“Affirmative.”

“Let me guess, your hapless leader is looking for a new advantage in combat over the Prime and sent you out to find someone who can fill that gap, hm?”

“Affirmative.”

“Well then,” he waved a servo magnanimously, making himself ever more comfortable in the hold of Skywarp, whom Soundwave was beginning to suspect was more than simply a friend.

Both of them were eyeing him expectantly, their fields mingling and pushing against Soundwave’s own with practiced intimidation.

He in-vented to center himself once more. They were waiting for him to win them over. Not for the first time, Soundwave wished he was as gifted in oral diction as Megatron was. He could appeal to the common rabble, but the mechs before him were clearly anything but.

“Query.”

“Yes?”

“Designation?”

The seeker looked surprised, lips quirking up into half of a smirk.

“My designation?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mean my reputation hasn’t proceeded me in this dirtball town?” He pouted playfully, despite Soundwave’s immunity to whatever manipulative flirting he was trying to engage in. “Clearly no one here has taste.”

“Or half a processor,” Skywarp chimed in.

“I suppose I’ll just have to make an impression, then. Starting now.”

Skywarp loosened his hold, allowing the other seeker to take a single step forward and stand tall, wings held proudly high.

“Senator Starscream of Vos. The handsome seeker behind me is Skywarp, a member of my trine.”

Soundwave didn’t react the way Starscream had been expecting, clearly.

He hardly reacted at all to the news that he was standing in the presence of the senator of the great city-state known for turning out the best flyers on Cybertron. Not on the outside. And Starscream’s smirk fell into a displeased frown.

For his part, Soundwave was thinking quickly, taking in the realization that a senator was taking an interest in their side of the revolution. A senator from a city-state in good standing with Iacon was there in Kaon, looking with interest for the rebels responsible for upsetting the status quo.

This… this could change everything. Megatron needed to know.

The annoyed flick of wings brought Soundwave from his thoughts, not that he cared if the seeker was annoyed. But he did care to arrange an introduction.

Before he could form the words, the universe insisted on derailing him just one more time. Their collective attention was drawn to the sudden heavy footfalls of someone quickly approaching from the street, before a larger frame came skidding into the mouth of the alley.

A third seeker, breathless and blue; taller than the other two with wings wide enough to block out the yellow light of the street beyond him. His pale faceplates held a look of panic.

“What happened?? You both just disappeared!”

Skywarp, for his part, looked unrepentant; answering simply. “Star picked a fight with the bouncer and got tossed out on his aft.”

“Excellent timing, Thundercracker,” Starscream interjected with a smile that spelled trouble. “This grounder we found lurking in the alley is looking for flight frames, and I do believe he was just about to proposition us.”

At first, Soundwave saw little issue with the manner in which Starscream stated this; until the words sank into Thundercracker’s processor and his panicked look flipped to protective fury. Aimed directly at Soundwave.

There was already a processor ache budding in behind his optics, and Soundwave wondered. He really and truly wondered if his luck at finding what Megatron had tasked of him in threefold was truly luck at all.

The sadistically amused expression on Starscream’s face as their larger friend wedged himself firmly between Soundwave and the seekers sank an odd feeling into his tanks. A feeling he’d not had since he’d agreed to work under the servo of the likes of Ratbat.

Maybe, just maybe, this was a decision he’d come to regret.

#soundstar #transformers #soundwave #starscream #skywarp #thundercracker #seeker trines #healing

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