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Triviality	By : mehmeh Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 2890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Authors: AmuseMe (a_scattered_me on LJ), tsarist_secret (on LJ)

Universe: G1, AU-ish

Characters: Ratchet, Wheeljack, Soundwave, Sideswipe, Ironhide, Frenzy, Rumble, Ravage, Buzzsaw, Bluestreak, Mirage

Warnings: Swearing, sexual innuendo,light allusions to pregnancy within genderless robots.

"Help him," Frenzy screamed at Soundwave. "Help him! Help him!"
The small symbiote had his tiny servos latched into Soundwave's plating and was trying to pull the much larger mech out of the sea. Soundwave stumbled further up the wet sand and the flaps of his vents opened fully to release a large, forceful spray of water. He then fell onto his knees with Rumble still held against his chest.
"Arm," Soundwave managed to say. "Malfunctioned. Dislocated."
"Fucking shit," Frenzy swore and as usual he preferred the local language in expressing how he really felt. "Okay. I dun have piledrivers so I'm gonna have to do this manually."
Frenzy may have been strong for his size but he wasn't strong enough. Soundwave arched his back with a hiss from the pain the moment Frenzy grabbed hold of his arm to give it a sharp push. The joints connected only half-way, and the gears sat misaligned against each other. But he could move it, albeit very jerkily. Buzzsaw's shadow passed over them and Soundwave knew that he had to stabilise Rumble and then get away from there fast. Megatron wasn't going to give him a head start.
"He's gonna live, ain't he?" Frenzy demanded and he shoved himself in close to see what was going on. "Yer gonna fix him, ain't ya?"
Finally, Soundwave relaxed the hold he had around Rumble so he could assess the damage.
"New destination: Autobot territory," Soundwave said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The Matrix had already retreated from his spark, and the link that stretched between him and Optimus felt like a long stretch of road that had been destroyed on both ends. He didn't think twice when he pushed aside the broken glass of his own chestplates, reaching in deep into his own internals to disconnect one of the thick tubes that was latched onto his lasercore. It was a shock to his system, but more of a dull zap that shot through his spark. Soundwave connected that tube to the open cavity of Rumble's damaged chest. He could feel the drain already from his damaged symbiote's body.
"Soundwave?" Frenzy questioned.
"No time. We need to leave now. Canyon in Ark's perimeter: safe location."
He ached horribly as he tried to stand up and wondered whether he'll be able to remain online long enough to make it there.
"Here. Yer gonna need this."
Soundwave looked down. Frenzy was sullenly holding a small cube full of energon.

"I think Decepticons—" Jazz's communication suddenly cut out with a fuzz of static.
Prowl stepped up closer to the monitor and tapped at the connection switch, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Blaster made a noise from the back of the room and the screen fizzled black for a moment, and Jazz came into view for a few seconds before it went blank, the noise screeching unpleasantly.
"We're being jammed by someone," Blaster duly and unhelpfully informed his commander, shrugging his shoulders as he worked the command console.
Blaster's chestplates were open, hardwired into the module, while his Cassettes went to and fro to correlate the many cords connecting him to the console. Prowl thought he looked odd, but he spoke nothing of it. Wasn't his business how telepaths went about theirs.
"Should we send backup?" Silverbolt asked from beside him.
Prowl didn't make any motions for several minutes except for rubbing at his chin with his forefinger and thumb. His optics were calculative and cool.
"Sir?" Silverbolt asked, his posture straightening as he gazed in concern, his hand motioning to the screen. "Perhaps we should ask for Optimus' opinion on this?"
Prowl tilted his head to the side to fix the youngling with a piercing blue optic. "Prime is in for a routine check-up but he will be informed," he gently reprimanded, the lie sliding easily off of his glossa.
The Aerialbots were young, naïve, inexperienced. Prowl had never approved of their creation, but it had been necessary. Numbers didn't mean anything in a specialized war.
"Inform First Aid that he should prepare the medbay for potential casualties."
"Yessir."

"He's gonna be okay, isn't he, Boss?"
What little of the dark sky they could see from the rocky outcrop above them was littered with patches and patches of bright stars. Soundwave wearily shifted his aching frame against the wall of rock he was leaning against and held Rumble closer to him, mindful of the tubing that linked their chests together. There was the light sting of pain when Frenzy dug his smaller fingers into the horribly scratched armour of his shoulder in an attempt to rewire some of the torn cabling, but Soundwave didn't mind it so much. Pain meant that his sensors were still working, that he had yet to succumb to the dead numbness of his systems shutting down one by one.
When Soundwave didn't immediately respond, Frenzy's question took on a more desperate note. "Boss?"
"Current situation: stable." His secondary vocaliser crackled, finally fritzing out from behind his dented faceplate. Without the synthesised monotone layering his voice, the bleakness he felt was obvious. He was never one to mince words; always owing the truth to his Cassettes. "However, he requires dire medical assistance. We need to wait."
Frenzy nodded and tipped his chin back, critically surveying his handiwork. Soundwave's shoulder was sticking out of his torso further than it should; the joint clearly out of alignment. Dried streaks of fluid ran down the dark plating from where the main hydraulic line had burst and overall it wasn't a pretty sight. But at least Frenzy had managed to stop the wires from sparking and Soundwave being able to move his arm again was a definite improvement from before, though he hardly had any power in it.
"Thank you, Frenzy."
"Yeah well, just doing my job. Ya still look like Menasor stomped on ya, though."
Frenzy stepped down from balancing on the telepath's folded leg and resigned himself to sit patiently by his side for now to share warmth. Night in the desert was bitterly cold to their already over-taxed bodies, though it couldn't compare to the bitterness of Laserbeak's betrayal. Ratbat following suit was just an unwanted bonus. Some time passed and Frenzy was already fidgeting, the little winglets on his back twitching with agitation and the tips of his fingers were back into clinging at the main seam of Soundwave's leg.
"Ya sure ya can keep him connected to yer spark like that?"
Ya sure ya won't deactivate in the middle of it and take him with ya?
Soundwave stared at the smaller mech, the dim glow of an orange optic visible just visible through his ruined visor's many cracks. It was true that it was stressful to have Rumble's main spark feed directly connected to his own and thus allowing the energy to cycle between them, but it was also keeping his precious symbiote alive. Soundwave was having a tough time as it was trying to manage Rumble's offline systems, constantly directing and redirecting resources around to compensate for the Cassette's large loss of life fluids.
"I can handle it," Soundwave finally said.
Frenzy's visor itself was dark with worry but he contented himself by staring stubbornly beyond the gorge's jagged entrance, where he knew Ravage was patrolling the area for intruders; ironically looking out for what were now their ex-comrades. When Soundwave's vents hitched irregularly, Frenzy spoke again.
"I ain't defecting. Didn't fight all these vorns just so I could become some stupid Autoboob."
"I know you will not. Preferred choice: asylum. Optimus Prime will grant it. Incentive: information."
"Yeah well that's just dandy, ain't it? An' what about yer 'preferred choice', Sounders?"
"What about me?"
Frenzy was scraping aimlessly at the dry ground. He sounded angry and Soundwave didn't blame him. "Yer Prime's bonded now. Where does that leave ya, huh?"
"I do not know," Soundwave answered. "My wellbeing: secondary. Rumble: top priority."
The Cassetticon's voice rose in volume, words vehemently spat out. "Following ya this far cost us everything so for yer sake, he fuckin' better be!"
Soundwave would not allow himself to feel guilty. He had to remain strong. "Your brother will live. I will make sure of it."
"Sorry," Frenzy managed to grit out. Temporarily mollified by Soundwave's firm statement, Frenzy glanced up at him quickly and then cast his gaze back to the ground. After a pause, he sounded much calmer. "Can't believe the Matrix just dropped in on ya like that. Bet ya weren't expecting that."
"Neither did Optimus, I can assure you."
There was a small snort of incredulity next to him. "...un-fraggin-believable."
Nothing more was said until Buzzsaw flew towards them and landed carefully by Soundwave's pedes. He made a series of electronic whirrs that instantly had Soundwave straighten. Frenzy was frowning; a strange expression on his face that was a mixture of hope and disdain.
"Ya sure they're Autobots, birdbrain?"
Buzzsaw's answer was mildly insulting and Frenzy scoffed. The small red and black mech bounced onto his pedes. He raised his hand up into a blocking motion when Soundwave slowly rose up to his knees.
"Stay here with Rumble. I'll go greet the cavalry, yeah?"
Soundwave cocked his helm to one side, questioningly before nodding. He sat back and his fingers tightened on the blaster that lay by his side. "Do not provoke. Sonics: unwise. If not Autobots then use as last resort."
"I know, I know."
Frenzy's brave grin faltered at the sight of the blackened hole on Rumble's stasis-locked body but he quickly spun around and began to make himself out into the open. A pair of disembodied red optics floated in the shadows on his right; Ravage's sleek body camouflaged perfectly. Buzzsaw's optics were brighter, redder, signifying his restlessness, gliding over him and barely stirring up a breeze before landing somewhere to his left. They all knew that escape would be practically impossible and if their already dour situation turned even sourer, then Frenzy's sonic ability would pump out enough vibration to cause the rocks around them to cave in.
With the gorge's tall walls surrounding him and the never-ending expanse of the night sky boring down on him, Frenzy pulled himself up onto a sizable boulder and stood as proud as his small stature would allow him. He placed his hands on his hips, never mind that he looked an absolute mess and waited.

It was cold, and Jazz activated his internal heating system to warm the joints of his frame. Funny how in the day it could be so hot, yet at night the temperatures were almost unbearably cold. Jazz moved forward by himself, his GPS pinpointed on Bluestreak's position from his own. If he paused to concentrate for a long time, he could see Bluestreak's gun barrel glinting under the night stars. It wasn't obvious, and Jazz was searching by infrared, but still. Unless a mech was dead, he'd always have a heat signature, and the ones he was spotting from a ways up concerned him. Not to mention the blood trail he'd been following. Jazz flicked his round headlights on and lifted his pede, finding the bottom of it covered with sticky energon blood mixed in with sand and weeds.
A hurt Decepticon. It wasn't the humans, impossible, wasn't any Autobots – they'd all been accounted for. With a rifle in his hands, Jazz crept slowly forward, hugging the inside corner of the canyon. Jazz's breath steamed out from his mouth, along with his vents, and he smiled as he worked at what he did best, barely stopping the urge to hum a song he'd grown attracted to. There were several heat signatures ahead. Enemy ones.
The black and white mech paused, his visor flashing a dark colour as he took in the sight ahead of him. Wasn't that… Rumble? Wait, no. That was Frenzy. Dropping his presets, the Autobot stepped out of the shadows that had been concealing him.
"Friend, doncha know you're in Autobot territory?" Jazz asked quietly, raising his gun.
"Don't ya think we know we're in Autobot territory, ya dumbo?" Frenzy snapped impatiently.
Jazz didn't aim, but he held it in a threatening position. Mirage, though invisible, did the same. Jazz could see him with his visor off to the left. Although, he did take aim.
"State your business."
Jazz was looking around the curve of rock and within a naturally occurring cave; curiously, trying to pinpoint exactly what was going on. The saboteur took a step forward, his rounded alternative mode headlights flashing over the path. They illuminated a large form a little ways behind Frenzy – a hunched over Soundwave. Jazz drew his gun up and aimed right at him.
What the fuck did Prime know about Soundwave anyways?
Soundwave raised his head to blearily look at the Autobot, protectively pulling Rumble closer to his chassis. He aimed his own concussion blaster at the Autobot but he was too slow, the aim was off and his shaking arm was only able to bend at the elbow. Soundwave remained silent, not wishing to speak himself and trusted his symbiote to elaborate instead. Frenzy's loud voice rang out behind them. He cycled a deep sigh and shifted his stance on the boulder, remembering that he was supposed to beseech the Autobots for help and not insult them.
"We request—" Frenzy appeared to choke on that word. "—asylum and also we need that medic of yers. Really, really badly. Rumble's barely hanging on and as ya can plainly see, Soundwave ain't too hot either."
To show that they came in peace, Soundwave flicked the gun's safety catch on and tossed it at Jazz; his throw was so weak that the weapon skidded to a halt only halfway towards the other mech's pedes.
Jazz chirred low in his vocalizer as he gazed upon the pair, albeit from a good, respectable distance. An invisible hand picked up the gun that was between them, and he watched as Mirage edged his way around the rock behind them to secure the cave from both sides, Bluestreak from above.
"Unfortunately our communications in this sector are being jammed, so we can't get through to base," Jazz murmured, tapping the communicator at his wrist.
And as commander of the group, there was no way he was even going to let Ratchet come down here. Signalling around with his hand to Bluestreak, he watched as the mech withdrew and headed back. Vaguely he could hear the mech transform and start his engine. Relaxing his posture, Jazz let his own gun point at the ground.
"They only way I see you getting back to Autobot headquarters would be if you transform. Can you still shift mass?"
Mirage made a hiss of disapproval from his left, and he watched the noble's gold optics turn darker as he motioned with his hands. A mistake, the noble clearly was saying. Quite possibly true, but there really wasn't much of a choice, if it all panned out, Soundwave could offer up some good information. Something had certainly happened, something bad, and Prime knew what was going on.
"If you can transform we'll take back up to the top to him. Mirage can carry Rumble."
With Soundwave still remaining quiet, Frenzy continued to act as his advocator. There was a soft thump when he jumped off the boulder. "Can't ya see that there's no way in hell he can transform? He'd hafta disconnect Rumble from his spark. See where I'm goin' here, bud? However..." Frenzy sneered and Soundwave knew that he was trying hard to cover his growing desperation. "We can help with the jamming. It's our toy. Buzzsaw's gonna bring it over and then ya can call for that big shuttle and we all – damn it, Boss!"
Soundwave was pressing the back of his shoulders against the wall behind him, using it as leverage so he could propel himself up to stand. He refused to continue sitting there like a he was a hapless weakling. Inwardly wincing as his plating scraped horribly against the rock, Rumble's legs swung limply when he finally managed to get himself upright, helm bowed to avoid the low ceiling. An impressive ten seconds passed before the power relay to his fuel pump overheated and caused it to stall, quite violently. The resulting backwash of energon surged up his tubes and Soundwave's injured shoulder crashed against the rock when he lurched forward, bending at the torso to purge. He barely even had enough time to rip the mask off his face – the auto-mechanism was broken – while he gasped and heaved, processed fuel splattering on the ground by his pedes.
Frenzy scowled fiercely at the scene and uttered a crude Cybertronian curse before he immediately bounded over to him. He pushed his body against the side of Soundwave's waist to keep him from falling back down. Even when Buzzsaw swooped into the shallow cave and dropped the jamming device by the Autobot, Frenzy was blindly trying to reach up between the two chestplates to physically reaffirm that his twin's spark was still there.
"Don't fret. Rumble's still stable," Soundwave rasped over the unhealthy noise of his stuttering vents, too exhausted to mentally reassure any of them. "Main connector lead is loose."
Mouth tight, Frenzy secured the cable plugged into his brother's medical access port. Then his helm whipped quickly to the side, focusing a glare onto the grey box. The blinking, green LED dimmed into black and Frenzy shifted his glare to Jazz instead.
"I ain't gonna dilly dally about here. Yer gonna help us because we can offer good information but if ya don't get that help here fast and Rumble dies, then ya get squat!"
Jazz wasn't sure if he was impressed or annoyed with the little mech in front of him. The saboteur quickly bent over and snatched up the small piece, just a simple jamming device that fizzled out all communications for a good fifty miles. Jazz's fingers flitted over the device and it shut off, where he was immediately hailed by Prowl, who he opted to send a text to instead. Bluestreak's voice sounded over his internal communicator – Ratchet had already been dispatched. But how? How could Ratchet possibly know when none of the mechs at base even knew what was going on?
"I don't have th' power to grant ya asylum, only Optimus Prime does, and he's not available. In th' meantime, I can only take ya as prisoners of war. You'll have to wait for Optimus' judgement."
Taking a step away, he subbed the jammer so Wheeljack could look at it later. The more they knew about Decepticon weaponry, the better. For the moment, Jazz withdrew from the Decepticons, going to the opposite wall of the canyon. It wasn't that far away, and he could still hear whispers of conversation. The personal atmosphere between Soundwave and his cassettes was something he had no interest in besides to gauge their relationships to each other. They were close, very close for Decepticons. Most didn't form lasting bonds as they did, though, the connection between them surely helped to strengthen what they had.
Ten minutes passed, then a half an hour, then forty-five terse minutes later, he could see Ratchet and – as he looked hard - Ironhide's headlights illuminate a smattering of rocks on the walls, and he stepped forward to greet them, as well as a deterrent to keep the Decepticons where they were.
The pair pulled up and promptly transformed. As soon as they were in bipedal form, Ironhide was cussing his best English and Cybertronian at the same time. The big mech raised his gun, pointed at the ground in front of the group, and his jaw tensed as Ratchet laid a hand on his shoulder.
"I can take care of this," the medic murmured, his blue optics flashing dark as he took a small step forward, almost hesitant.
"Fuck you are," Ironhide growled, his arm flying out to grasp the CMO's collar ridge, tugging him back. "I'm not letting you go near them until they're all disarmed, subspace included." As Ratchet's guardian, it was his job to make sure no harm befell the medic.
"We told ya," Frenzy insisted. Really it was amazing how a small mech like that could produce such a loud voice. "We ain't attacking. We only got a couple of rockets between us and that's it."
Soundwave was slowly making himself out towards the Autobots using measured, cautious steps, his right pede dragging ever so slightly in the dirt. The moon above them illuminated the broken edges of his chestplate and the thick energy cable that was wedged between him and his cargo. The light continued to emphasise the horrible condition of his body; from the ripped plating on his shoulder where the cannon used to rest, to the vicious scratches and indentations covering his abdominal plating and down to the finger-shaped impressions on his warped interface panel. It was as if he had been mauled by a wild beast.
The fuel pump failed again and he ended up heaving once more. The disgusting, viscous liquid brought up from his tanks clung stubbornly to his parted lips and when he managed to wipe his mouth, he couldn't keep himself from wincing when the gears crunched sickeningly at his shoulder joint.
"I can't feel him!" Frenzy's visor was almost blindingly bright. "Why can't I feel him?"
"Spark fluctuation. From: temporary tank failure. Had to shut down several tertiary directories to save resources," Soundwave was explaining flatly. He didn't mention that he was desperately forcing new overrides onto Rumble's dormant systems to keep them from crashing completely.
Frenzy had endured too much and everything he had ever believed in, had fought for was now gone, leaving him hurtling into the obscurity of uncertainty. He was yelling, literally vibrating with hopelessness. "Don't lie to me! Then why can't I feel him! Was it worth it? Tell me, ya traitor! Was it worth it in the end?"
"Frenzy," Soundwave warned, his own seemingly limitless patience waning.
"Why don't ya tell them! Tell them that ya-"
Soundwave had managed to scrounge enough energy within himself to conjure up a telepathic jolt that had Frenzy's helm snap to one side as if he'd been physically slapped.
"Such insubordination from a mere symbiote will not be tolerated," Soundwave snarled quietly. "Everything in one's function is a choice. Remember that. You following me to this point had been your choice. Now calm down. Rumble is not dead."
He sat down heavily onto the boulder Frenzy had been standing on previously and was pathetically glad that he had thought to lock the elbow joints of his good arm into place because he would have surely dropped Rumble's unmoving chassis by now. Disciplining Frenzy had drained whatever meagre dregs of energy he had left and Soundwave knew that it was out of sheer will that was keeping him from collapsing already. There was gentle tap at his shin and he glanced down through his ruined visor. Ravage had moved away from his hidden position in the shadows, the remains of Soundwave's mouthplate clamped between his strong jaws. Frenzy took it instead and turned it over in his hands.
"Yer second vocaliser's completely busted, Boss," he said with a subdued tone. "Clips gone to hell too. Ya need a new one."
Soundwave didn't even warrant him with a look but he vowed to himself that he'd make it up to his little Cassette later on...that is, if he ever got the chance to. Instead, he resolutely straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as far as he possibly could and stared at the mechs in front of him, pinpointing each and every one.
"Current request: asylum. Megatron: has issued an order towards all currently serving Decepticons to kill us on sight. I no longer have command over the Cassetticons Laserbeak and Ratbat. I will not divulge any information until after I have spoken to Optimus Prime personally," he called out, voice weary and filled with static. He tipped his chin up, acknowledging Ratchet in the far back of the group. "Autobot Ratchet. The power relay to my fuel pump is failing fast. Rumble: connected directly to my systems and spark. He will likely not survive another episode like that."
Ironhide's facial plates turned into a sharp scowl as he watched the Decepticon. His grip loosened and he stepped to the side, covering Ratchet from behind, practically looming over him.
"Disgusting," Ironhide said lowly, crossing his arms over his thick chassis.
Jazz chirred again, stepping around the group to go to the back to talk with Prowl. The saboteur tapped at his wrist and a hologram of Prowl came into view. Jazz replayed the conversation to his commander, and the two conversed animatedly while Ratchet stepped forward farther.
The medic moved until he was right in front of Soundwave, and he skirted to the side so he could inspect the wound. He activated his headlights so he could see better, then bent forward, resting his palm near the Decepticon's hip. It wasn't the best way to examine a patient, but he said nothing of it. After a thorough inspection, he set to work.
First, the mech needed emergency medicinal energon. Such of which Ratchet had a special tank for in his own chassis. His red fingers searched along his side for the cache, and he opened it with a flick of his fingers. A small tube was coiled up, with a sharp, pointed end, and he shifted closer. Ratchet's hands were already slick with mechblood, and he felt along Soundwave's neck for a suitable energy line. With deft precision, he sunk the pointed tip in, and activated it. It would keep Soundwave's energon circulating even if his pump were to fail, because it was working off of Ratchet's own systems.
Not to mention, that medicinal energon was admittedly strong. It washed through Soundwave's systems, strengthening his systems but the onslaught of nutrients and supplements was overwhelming him, dizzying his already overworked processors. At least Soundwave's steadying internals seemed to have an indirect, positive effect onto Rumble's.
"Hmm…" the medic observed, his optics dark with his conclusion. "Your systems are weak with nutrient deficiency, results of a poor diet." He reached his hand in Soundwave's chassis and bent lower, flashing a smaller light in there now that his chassis was angled down. "Which will make things problematic because," he felt up farther inside, the sickening slurp and slosh of living internals breaking the quiet, "your energon tank has a small crack on the bottom and your tank is brittle. It would have ruptured soon anyways."
"My apologies," Soundwave said.
Ratchet's optics flickered, unable to discern whether the Decepticon was actually joking or not. But Soundwave's closed off expression betrayed nothing. So Ratchet returned to trying to repair the damage on the other mech as best as he could. It was hard work, especially trying to angle his windshield around the symbiote the mech carried in his arms. But, he managed.
"Need a fucking, agh, this is going to take me forever to fix," Ratchet hissed, beyond displeased.
Soundwave bore Ratchet's ministrations as stoically as he possibly could, suppressing the unbearable urge to flinch away when unwanted hands slid deep into his internals, their touch so revoltingly intimate. The vents framing Soundwave's faceplates stuttered, exhaling hot air. He licked his energon-stained lips and grimaced at the stale taste. Looking up, he noted the dark expression Ironhide was sporting but couldn't care less about it. At least the warmth emanating from Ratchet's close presence was relaxing him ever so slightly, shielding him from the cold around them.
Ratchet slipped his hand back and transformed it into soldering torch. His blue optics darkened as he worked on a cut, working to free a portion of Soundwave's chestplate so he could get at his internals better. Even if just to look, he needed to see all the serious injuries. Once the piece was free, Ratchet pulled it out and let it fall to the ground. Some internal bleeding, pinched wires and abrasions, but not much. Soundwave would be fine after his tubing was patched up and was rewired. Drawing away, Ratchet stood back up with a grunt.
The medic pulled out a pouch full of metallo-mesh bandages from his subspace. He ripped them in sizable pieces with his denta, and took Soundwave's chin in his hand for a moment, pulling his head to the side so he could care for a wound to one of the Decepticon's main energon lines. Ratchet's optics narrowed and he scowled.
"You're putting him in danger," the CMO said, his voice barely audible.
"I have blocked our connection," Soundwave answered just as quietly, not showing any surprise. He eyed up the medic from the corner of a flickering, orange optic, his stare never wavering even as the firm fingers gripped his chin. "I thought it prudent."
Ratchet snorted. "Not good for your health either," he muttered needlessly, drawing himself forward so he could peer at the little symbiote Soundwave carried in his arms.
He stared for several long minutes, prodding gently at a few spots. The thing was a mess, and if he wasn't so sure Soundwave would've detested it, Ratchet would've suggested that they terminate Rumble. But from the displays he had already seen, and what Jazz had been chattering over his communications line, that wasn't going to happen. Most of the damage was to Rumble's middle, hardly anywhere else, and Ratchet pursed his lips in concern.
"His spark chamber is damaged," the medic murmured, taking a step back to gaze at it.
The glowing orb was dark, covered in mechblood and hard to see, but Ratchet could see a hairline crack running up it. Was probably most of the reason he was offline too, because from what Ratchet could see, not many of his energon lines were damaged, but his spark was consuming energy at an enormous rate. Sliding his hand up, he pulled the line connecting him from Soundwave free. Ratchet turned his attention on the symbiote. The medic patched the energon lines that he could, and the rest he clipped off to stem the flow of energon.
"I could fix him, but I'll have to put him in stasis lock on the Ark. It could take some time, and even if I do repair him, his spark has been damaged. His personality could be altered. It's…your decision," he finished lowly, glancing back over his shoulder at Ironhide.
Soundwave's mouth tightened and Frenzy made a soft hiss.
"In the meantime while you decide," Ratchet pressed on, "We're going to have to do something about this shoulder of yours. I hope you Decepticons have pain tolerance like I've been told," he warned
Ironhide took several steps closer. He was listening intently, and now both hands were resting on his gun again.
"Ironhide," the CMO muttered, barely concealing his smirk as he gazed back at his occasional partner. "I'm going to need your help for this."
"I'd be delighted," Ironhide replied in Cybertronian, his accent thick and heavy.
The red mech set his rifle flat on the ground, then drew closer and grasped Soundwave's wrist, hauling his arm up loosely. He didn't pull yet, but he knew when he'd have to. Hadn't been the first time he'd had to help with this sort of thing, or of when it'd been done to himself. Though he did not bother to hide his grin of amusement.
Ratchet transformed his hand into a saw, and Ironhide aimed his headlights at the area, hopefully keeping it bright enough so the Decepticon would turn his face away.
"Just hold still, this is going to hurt," Ratchet said.
With a quiet whir, he started the bainite blade. It was specialized for cutting through thick, military grade armour. Sparks flew as he sliced through Soundwave's shoulder plating, and Ironhide pulled the mech's arm taunt, keeping a firm hold on his forearm with both hands.
"I didn't think I'd need any tranquilizers, or painkillers tonight," Ratchet said loudly, almost in a shout as he shaved away Soundwave's plating with absurd ease.
Once it was out of the way, he quickly transformed his hand back and wrapped his arms around Soundwave's shoulders, bracing him. Ironhide pulled the Decepticon's arm, and with a crunch, it popped back in place. Ratchet pulled back, and Ironhide let go, letting Soundwave's arm flop against the rock.
"There, not so bad, eh?" Ratchet asked.
Soundwave didn't answer Ratchet immediately. He barely made a sound either, even as the pain blossomed through his screaming neutral net, a high crescendo of agony that temporarily shorted out his vision before it receded back to his injured shoulder. He just lowered his helm until it touched crests with Rumble's, while his internal fans laboured in vain, as if they were trying to bodily expel the pain from his internals. As professional as Ratchet was, Soundwave was just happy that the sensors attached to his armour had already been dead from before. Telepathy was not a requirement to know that Autobots' sadist of a medic had lied about the tranquilisers.
"Autobot medic: services quite adequate, thank you," he conceded, though his sharp denta were still clenched together.
"What he means," Frenzy piped up sullenly from somewhere in the background, having inched closer to Ravage and Buzzsaw. "Is that he thinks ya should go fuck yerself."
Soundwave did not bother refuting his subordinate's statement.
But Ratchet wasn't looking at Soundwave, his intense gaze was upon the little symbiote mouthing off to him. He brandished his hand at the little mech, but it was clearly in a nonthreatening gesture. "I have mechs who do that for me," he stated, huffing with indignity as he turned away. He looked back to Soundwave. "Consider this a tiny bit of repayment for… earlier repercussions."
Soundwave remained silent. Instead, he swung his recently aligned arm in a brief pendulum motion and then raised it, bending, and wiggling his fingers in a quick test. The pain was still there, but it had numbed down into an ache that he knew would not go away until the entire socket, gears and all, were replaced. While he did that, he began to adjust Rumble's programming, and one of his hands skirted over the Cassette's torso to reaffirm that the energon tubes that Ratchet had fixed continued to hold.
"Alright," Jazz cut in, stepping in front of an Ironhide who looked like he was ready to make a grab for Frenzy himself. The saboteur fanned his hands out, as if settling the deal. "Skyfire is coming for transport, but he can't make it down here in this canyon, so we're going to have to go topside to get a pickup."
"Yes…" Ratchet agreed. "There's not much more I can do out here. Soundwave needs surgery, along with Rumble." The CMO had his hands on his hips, looking quite displeased with everything. "This is just fucking great. Good way to ruin my entire damn week," he hissed, taking a few steps off as he coiled up the emergency energon line. As much as he grumbled and complained, he was good at his profession, and he had a deep-seated love for all of his patients, no matter if they were Neutral or Autobot, or even Decepticons.
Ironhide followed him and made a poorly concealed grab for Ratchet's aft, but was easily evaded with a swat and a cuss word. Once they were a safe distance away, they both began arguing together rather vehemently, and many gestures were made to the Decepticon group.
"I'm starting to think we're better off self-terminating," Frenzy muttered disdainfully as he neared his Master.
"Perhaps," Soundwave murmured. "But then it would have all been for naught."
Now feeling more robust and confident he would not break down, Soundwave slid off the boulder he was sitting on and walked closer to part of the canyon wall that was angled less steeply than the others. His sensor-net prickled as he passed the invisible Autobot and it didn't stop him from glancing to the side and sneering at the seemingly empty space. Mirage could boast about his ability all he could but Soundwave could still sense him should he wander in close enough.
Soundwave hoisted up Rumble more securely to his chassis and stared up, calculating each foothold with mathematical precision. Ravage was already jumping from rock to rock, gracefully making himself to top. None of the Autobots had offered for help and he did not expect them to, nor was he going to lower himself and ask. He still cared for the Decepticon cause, after all.
"Chest compartment: not functional to carry you. Frenzy's anti-gravs: functional?" he questioned Frenzy.
The Cassetticon made a face. "Just enough, I guess."
Soundwave accessed the program to activate his own. They did employ...though barely. Any previous attempt had been shot down by the serious energy drain but now he felt half-way decent to at least make it up there. He began to hover unsteadily off the ground and with his free hand, he grasped part of the wall to pull himself up. His elbow gained many scratches from the way he used it as a barrier to keep Rumble from being scraped, but it was something he hardly paid attention to. One pede dug into the rock face, loose grit falling down below and although much of the protruding rock crumbled underneath his heavy weight, the anti-gravs helped him to scramble nimbly, up and up until he victoriously reached solid ground. Frenzy's own anti-gravs gave out the last minute and a startled yelp was the only warning Soundwave received before his quick reflexes kicked in. He caught his symbiote by the winglet, saving him from suffering from an ungainly fall back down into the canyon.
Frenzy grinned, his words lost over the growing rumble of Skyfire's engines. "Thanks Boss."

Rumble would live. The full damage to his cranial and personality circuitry would not be known until he was woken. However, with a new energon regulator attached to the outside of his spark, he was consuming energon at the normal rate for a mech in stasis lock. His systems were slowly being rebuilt, and the task was much harder than Ratchet had anticipated. Everything was smaller, harder to put together, and more time consuming. He would remain in stasis lock until he was fully repaired.
Soundwave however… Ratchet shifted in his hovering medical chair, feeling the struts in his back crack unpleasantly. He'd been working on cutting off more of the telepath's dented plating so it could be repaired before he could start the intensive internal repairs. But Soundwave hadn't said much.
Ratchet stood and stretched, massaging his red fingers carefully. He shuffled off to his medical desk, pulling out a cube of strong highgrade. He poured it into two small cups and returned back to Soundwave's side, setting them onto a tray of bloodied tools. He pressed one cup into Soundwave's hands. "It'll help dull the pain," Ratchet offered. He meant the emotional and physical pain.
Soundwave lifted the cup up, held it into the light to inspect the liquid inside and brought it close to his olfactory sensors. When he saw Ratchet sip from his cup, only then did he ascertain that his highgrade was not poisoned. But then again, he was sure that Ratchet would have had other more creative ways of terminating him; poison would have been rather unoriginal for a medic.
"So…are you with spark yet? Or is that a surprise for later?"
"New spark: negative," Soundwave answered with a clipped tone. He hated how raw his voice sounded without the secondary vocaliser to synthesise it or the mask to hide the movement of his mouth. "I do not feel any anomalies in my spark save for the bond."
The Decepticon then downed the highgrade in one go and his lips twisted. It was strong and locally produced, but it was enough to eat away through his intakes and line the inside of his tanks with a prickly sense of numbness.
"Well, that's something you can anticipate in the future. Prime will want an heir," Ratchet easily replied as he took another gulp of his energon. Ratchet continued to work on Soundwave's wiring, sorting out the melted destroyed mess. "I know this probably won't make much of a difference to you right now, but I do honestly follow by the war guidelines set down by the medical association of Iacon. I only want to help those in need," Ratchet rumbled. "So just relax kid. I won't be offended if you recharge either."
Ratchet paused for a moment when Soundwave raised his arm so he could rub his face wearily. Though his optics were hidden by his still-broken visor, his mouth twisted with displeasure.
"Future: uncertain. Heir: uncertain. This bond: very uncertain. I am the enemy," he said flatly, his helm rolling back to rest onto the berth. The lights above him were bright enough to irritate his sensitive optics and he was exhausted, but falling into recharge was not an option. Soundwave opened his mouth, perhaps to tell Ratchet not to bother fixing him if he was just going to be executed later…but thought better of it and just pressed his lips together.
Ratchet leaned back in his chair, his optics distant. "I can tell you're the type of mech who likes it straight, so I'll be honest with you. The Council will decide what to do with you, but if they terminate you, they're essentially terminating Optimus as well. A bond is a very intimate thing. You're literally sharing each other's sparks. Optimus, like any mech, has his faults, but he's a good leader. His destruction would cripple the Autobot cause."
Naturally, Soundwave did not look very happy hearing that.
Ratchet wiped off a bloodied tool with a cloth before he turned back and peered carefully at Soundwave's chassis. "However, I cannot say how the bond between you and Optimus will develop. It will always be there, but he may decide to lock you up and never touch you again, or he might decide to really make you Royal Consort. Not to mention he's engaged to be bonded to Elita, but then cheated on her with Magnus, and cheated on him with you. Your best option is to keep yourself appealing to him and compete with the others. I know you Decepticons love shit like that."
Soundwave turned his helm back to stare at Ratchet in a slow, rather incredulous manner. "I am a communications officer. I am a Decepticon. Not a courtesan of the court. Not a suitor. Priority: Cassetticons. It is not my decision. Decision belongs to: the Council, Optimus Prime, and the Matrix. Not mine."
The telepath's vents released a hot burst of air, and his pump made a grating sound that sounded horrible without the buffer of his inner plating. He wasn't sure whether he was trying to laugh at the ridiculous idea of competing for Optimus' affections. He'd be lucky if Optimus ever gave him a second glance after this.
Of course the highgrade didn't help.
"Royal Consort. Absurd," Soundwave spat out. "I will not debase myself by grovelling for his attention. I do not know 'love'. I have never been courted. I do not know the machinations of such a practice."
"Well," Ratchet replied, his slender fingers sliding into Soundwave's chassis to tug on something until it came completely out. "I'll just keep you in my office and make you suck my cock during energon breaks."
He chuckled, not noticing the calculative expression Soundwave gave him.
"But seriously," Ratchet continued to speak. "Look at the opportunity right in front of you. Bonded to the most powerful mech on Cybertron. You have the ability to win him over. He's obviously sexually interested in you. I can only advise you to make the best of it all. Who knows, in the end, everything you dared not to dream of might come true."
"Medic should not mock me."
"I wasn't mocking you—"
"Correction: he was sexually interested in me. I doubt that is the case now. Please understand. There are no happy endings for me."
"Sheesh, you could make the most happy-go-lucky mech slit his wrists."
The Decepticon flinched when Ratchet pulled at another wire within his chassis, one that connected to his sensor relays. It had completely fused to his body from his overheating systems. The full mouth relaxed, somewhat in consideration and when he spoke, his voice was calm and collected.
"Autobot CMO Ratchet. Proposal of deal in regards to your earlier statement: my symbiotes' safety in return of private services. I will not resist. I am…skilled," Soundwave said.
Ratchet looked up, his mouth slightly agape. Soundwave stared back and the optics behind his dark visor dimmed, though it was uncertain whether it was from his attempt to seduce or complete miserable resignation.
"It was a joke I shouldn't have made, Soundwave. I'm in a relationship and he wouldn't be too happy if I started messing around with a dangerous Decepticon. Everyone here takes really good care of me. I'm spoiled," Ratchet quickly replied. "Your symbiotes will be kept safe. If everything goes completely wrong, I can tell you that Blaster would only be too happy to take care of them. He's a good mech and loves his symbiotes like his children. He'd be personally horrified if they were harmed. Though I do urge you to make sure they're as helpful as possible. It will make things much easier."
Soundwave barely kept his scathing retort to that under wraps but he openly scowled, giving Ratchet a flash of his pointed denta – an obvious indication of his opinion to Blaster taking in his symbiotes.
"My symbiotes will not cause any trouble. They have other more pressing worries. They know where they currently stand." Soundwave then wet his dry lips and shifted the focus of his optics to stare at the room where Rumble was currently kept. "My apologies for offending you." A pause. "I seek counsel with Optimus Prime."
Ratchet nodded and stood up. He wiped his hands and set his scalpel down to round the berth. Soundwave had been partitioned from the main med bay with strung up thermal blankets, but the doublewide doors had been locked anyways to keep anyone without an emergency from wandering in. Ratchet ripped the curtains down with a fierce tug, revealing more, and he ripped those down too.
A half-repaired Optimus lay in recharge only a short distance away.
"Hello this is Optimus, I'm not awake right now so you'll have to leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Ratchet said in a high, femme-like voice.
The telepath's optics flared at the sight of his bondmate. The bond between them must have been completely blocked, or he must have been too drained to miss sensing Optimus at such close proximity. His spark involuntarily jumped with such vigour, eagerly seeking its other half, that it actually hurt Soundwave. He gasped and slapped a hand flat on his chest, his broken claw tips brushing against his lasercore from where parts of it lay visible from underneath the half-assembled plating of his torso.
"You waste valuable time and effort," he wheezed, "by trying to be humorous."
Ratchet laughed. "You'll soon discover I make the worst jokes in the entire Autobot army."
The expression on Soundwave's face remained unchanged. Clearly he did not quite understand the concept of comedy.
The medic threw a blanket over Prime's form, obscuring him somewhat. "The bond must be very weak. It is advisable, on a medical level, if you both bond again as soon as you can. Sparks need many hours together so you don't feel that pain, and so that you can start to utilize all that a bond has to offer. Sending thoughts and emotions to each other is handy. Everything from hate to arousal can keenly be felt."
Soundwave couldn't look at Optimus' still form any longer. He returned back to staring up at the ceiling. He wondered why the medic kept talking about nurturing the bond, optimistically referring to a happy future when Soundwave was sure that this…thing…that linked between his and the Prime's sparks should be left to erode. But be that as it may, Soundwave was too tired, and simply too lost to think of anything beyond. He had defected, Megatron would stop at nothing to eliminate him, and all he had to do was survive to see the next day.
He hoped.

Soundwave had to be put into stasis lock for the remainder of his chassis repairs. A high-powered lamp was shining above Ratchet's helm into the cavern of Soundwave's internals, and occasionally a light would flash or a strut would contract in the inner workings at Ratchet diligently worked. Soundwave's design was one of the most brilliant and efficient he had ever seen. Repairs were generally easy, almost all of the parts were reinforced, and everything was high-quality despite the energon deprivation which had started to cause a large amount of common wear and tear.
Ratchet sat back, his fingertips retracting and transforming into grating drill bits. He began to shave away metal, but looked up when the medbay doors opened. While he couldn't see the doors because he had Soundwave surrounded by a wall of thermal blankets, he knew someone with the access codes had entered. Very few had the codes. Whatever it was, it must have been important.
Ratchet ducked out from the thermal blankets and peered around the corner of them, spotting a red-plated mech who was walking straight for him.
"Ratchet!" Sideswipe called, a large smile on his face.
The medic scowled. "How the fuck did you get the entry codes? Wait, don't tell me. I don't want to know."
Sideswipe stopped when he was only an arm's length away and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Every mech has their price."
Sideswipe seemed more interested in what was behind the curtains, and he tried to tactfully dodge around Ratchet, but the medic blocked him by holding his arms out.
"What are you doing here?" Ratchet snapped.
"Well we were just wonderin' what the fuck is going on. No one's talking facts but everyone's got theories. Just wanted to see what's going on."
Ratchet sighed and pushed Sideswipe away with the base of his palm. "This is not a soldier's business. Everything will be sorted soon."
"Is that fuckin' Decepticon really right there?" Sideswipe asked, but he stopped trying to get around the medic and settled instead for craning his neck to the side to try to glance through the opening in the thermal blankets Ratchet used to enter and exit. "And you're repairing him with our parts?"
Ratchet bristled. "Sideswipe, fuck off."
Quickly realising that he wasn't going to get any answers by annoying the main medic, Sideswipe pulled back a little and he flashed Ratchet a charming, roguish smile. "Aw c'mon. I'm not just anyone."
As a frontliner warrior, Sideswipe was much taller and broader than Ratchet. He played it to his advantage, making himself as alluring as possible and his energy field pulsed invitingly. Ratchet on the other hand, just gave a long-suffering sigh at the other's antics.
"Hey," Sideswipe breathed, his optics darkening and his finger made a muted squeal as he drew it down the windshield of Ratchet's alt-mode. "It's not as if I'm gonna blab it to anyone. Sunstreaker definitely won't."
"Ah," Ratchet said. He gave the blanket a sharp tug to close the gap and forcefully inserted himself in Sideswipe's personal space. "Why don't you suck me off and I'll tell you."
Sideswipe's optics brightened. "Really?"
"No," Ratchet said flatly.
Not one to be deterred, Sideswipe pursed his lips determinedly and his hand trailed down to the vivid red plating of Ratchet's pelvis. "Yes."
The other Autobot chuckled. "Persistent little slagger, aren't you?"
Sideswipe grinned impishly. "Say yes."
"No."
"Yes."
This time, a different voice answered for Ratchet. "No."
Neither of them had noticed Wheeljack's presence in the room. The engineer stood behind them, by one of the berths. His pose was deceptively amiable and relaxed, and his helm finials lit up in a quick sequence.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Wheeljack questioned cheerfully.
Both Ratchet and Sideswipe paused, looking over to the mech who had spoken.
Ratchet shrugged. "This soldier is trying to solicit sex from me. Nothing unusual."
Sideswipe scoffed and shifted to the side while Ratchet was looking away. He managed to catch a glimpse of Soundwave's plating, and his optics flared. "I was just kidding. I wanted to know what's going on. Prowl's not saying anything either. Everyone's just…on edge."
Ratchet drew the thermal blankets closer together to obscure the mech inside. "And somehow this one," he jerked his thumb back towards Sideswipe, "got the medbay codes. Gonna need you to change them."
Wheeljack's bright blue optics focused briefly on Sideswipe. "Is that so. I kinda wondered why Bluestreak wanted to know what I was up to."
"Ah…" Ratchet smirked knowingly. "The ole' 'distraction by the cutie' trick."
The red-plated twin frowned and his optics flitted from between the two senior officers. They were closing in on him, cornering him from both sides like they wanted to trap him with no escape.
"That's violating paragraph twenty-two, from section three isn't it?"
"Section eighteen actually," Ratchet corrected. "Brig time. Possible demotion. Stealing codes from an officer is a very serious offense indeed."
"Seriously guys!" Sideswipe protested, palms facing up in a mollifying gesture. "I didn't mean any harm and you know it!"
"You know…" Wheeljack drawled, tapping the tip of one smudged finger against the bottom of his mask. "I actually need a strong, capable mech to help me with this one new invention."
"The one with the unstable component?" Ratchet asked, feigning disinterest.
"That's the one!"
"Well. I'm not repairing any limbs again. I've got my hands full as it is," Ratchet replied. "So…be careful would you?"
Sideswipe hastily backed away when it was made clear that he would not be getting any information out of the pair. The red twin padded out slowly and left. The medbay doors shut again, and Ratchet walked over to the panel mounted in the wall to flip it open.
"How do you change the codes again? I'm not sure if you did it last or if Prowl did…" the medic mumbled.
Wheeljack's vents made a sort of noise – a mixture between a laugh and a snort – and neared the other mech. He connected to the control panel via a wire that extended from the base of his wrist and mere seconds later, the unit's display lit up to accept the new codes.
"Done. Here, I'll databurst it to you." The engineer paused before giving Ratchet a look from over his shoulder. "Were you going to give in?"
"Was I going to give in to what?" Ratchet absently replied as he filed the code away, then sent the updated pass to the rest of the officers who had unlimited access.
The lights on the mech's finials flashed again, but this time they were bordering on white rather than blue. "Oh let's see… a young prankster, on his knees with that hot little mouth of his servicing you."
Wheeljack sauntered past Ratchet, and his energy field was now fizzing a little with displeasure. He parted the blankets to peer inside, openly scanning the Decepticon's still body for himself and reached over with a servo to casually poke at an exposed wire.
"Oh please. I'm not in the mood for sex anyways. You know how those younglings are. Especially Sideswipe." The medic stepped inside the thermal blanket lined area, and he smacked Wheeljack's fingers away from Soundwave's open chassis. "Quit it. I don't want him to combust." Ratchet sidled around the berth and sat back down on his hovering chair so he could stare at the mess of the Decepticon's chassis. "Why don't you head back to the berth? It's late…I'll be there soon."
"Do I have to suck you off to get some information too?" Wheeljack sarcastically asked.
"Why darling, that's the third offer today." Ratchet smiled pleasantly and propped his chin up with his hand. "I must be popular today. I wonder why."
The narrow winglets that stuck up from Wheeljack's back twitched as he twisted his body to face Ratchet's chair. "You're not telling me anything either. Everything is all hush-hush and you wanna know what I think?" Wheeljack lowered his voice, as if he was sharing a big secret. "I think somethin' big is gonna happen that will change everything. And Soundwave's a big part of it and it ain't about him defecting either. Prime's bonded with him. And don't try to deny it. I know a bond when I see one."
Ratchet stared at his lover, his expression unchanging. "I can see all those years at the academy for higher programming really paid off. However, I'm required to remain silent on speculation… All I can say is that…it's very interesting. Definitely…changing for the Autobots," Ratchet said cryptically, his red fingers tapping over Soundwave's spark casing.
"Oh yeah." Ratchet pulled a datapad out of his subspace and handed it over to Wheeljack. "Look at those CPU processing patterns. It's the kid – Rumble. What do you think of them? I wasn't trained to recognize them on such a small scale. Dealing with repairing his systems has been difficult enough for me."
"Nice try on changing the subject, medic," Wheeljack said, but his optics had lightened in colour indicating that he wasn't irritated as he was before. He studied the datapad, gave it a couple of taps to bring up some additional readings. "Hm, well the pest's lucky I can tell you that. He won't wake up with the intelligence of a drone but I can't know for sure until I take new readings." He lowered the datapad and one of his optics brightened while the opposite helm finial gave a little flicker, giving him a crooked look. "Jeeze, he's a hell of a lot older than I originally thought. Are all the symbiotes this old?"
"To my knowledge, which is small so far, they are all older than him."
Wheeljack appeared shocked at the news and Ratchet continued speaking.
"Soundwave is very young, actually. He was probably barely full grown by the time he joined the Decepticons. I cannot tell his exact age…someone edited the files. Someone very intelligent. Shockwave I'm guessing. Soundwave's entire design screams of the mech," Ratchet replied, pointing out several areas of the telepath's chassis that were unusual or unique. "You should map out the design for me…see if we can't use it in the future."
Wheeljack didn't answer immediately. He was staring at Soundwave with interest. "Fuck. I thought he was one of those timeless mechs that existed since the beginning of Cybertron and just showed up out of nowhere as Megatron's evil shadow. But…" He leaned in closer, turning his to one side so he could scrutinise one particular component in Soundwave's open chassis. "Yeah looks really familiar now. I used to tell Shockwave's work just with a single glance. I admired his work. Still do actually. Mech's a fucking genius."
"You don't say," Ratchet drawled. He inclined his helm towards Wheeljack's midsection. "Careful there. Your spike's extending."
"Is not!" Wheeljack placed the datapad back onto the counter. "Look. Basically my opinion is that Rumble should synchronise with Soundwave's systems as soon as he can. It is… in some vague way, kinda akin to spark merging. It'll stabilise his processing and memory cells."
"Must be what happens whenever he opens his chest compartment for them just like Blaster. Unfortunately…that port is pretty much destroyed. And it'll take some time to refabricate Shockwave's work. I just don't have the equipment and time he put into it," Ratchet murmured, nodding in agreement.
"And while you do…" Wheeljack made a gesture towards the Decepticon. "Ugh, make sure that he's restrained. He may be a kid, but he's still dangerous."
Ratchet smiled, his lips barely curving upwards. Warmth filled his spark at Wheeljack's concern. "Of course."
- 7
- 8
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