The sound was a soft rumble, a growl of speakers almost too powerful to contain mere words. The owner of the voice, almost hilariously thin and lithe, knelt. Bending the knee to Megatron as only Soundwave could.
And behind him? His apprentice knelt as well. The femme who had become his shadow. Both here to serve him and ONLY him.
Aah.. Soundwave.
He didn't need to speak for Megatron to recognize the arrival of his most loyal subordinate, and where Soundwave went Datashrike was sure to follow it seemed. The pair knelt before him as Megatron huffed to himself.
"Soundwave. Datashrike."
Megatron turned to face the pair, ruby optics piercing through the darkness of the Nemesis.
Soundwave slowly rises, followed by the indigo shadow behind him. He was not the one to speak up this time, but them.
"My liege. We have detected more deposits of dark energon scattered around Earth. A...a lot of it, actually." From where the femme had produced the datapad was a question left unasked. "My deep augur scans might be proving a lot of theories right. I think...I think Unicron might be HERE. On Earth."
To say that the tyrant was rather growing impatient with the numbers of minicons lately was an understatement. But having Scanvenger on the team after all of these years should be helpful.
“Have you met with Scavenger?” He asks curiously. No malice. At least, not entirely yet.
"I have indeed, my lord." Datashrike gave a deep nod that qualified as a bow. "And...it's going."
A sigh.
"Scavenger was able to provide some basic information I was lacking, but not by much. seems we...just have to wait for more to wake from their slumber, my master."
"Mm-AH!" The pin-prick bite he was left with stung just a bit, but with the moment getting steamy, the pain didn't register long. Instead, his frame was tingling with anticipation.
"You-you do oral?" he looks at them wantingly. Of course he'd love being eaten out. Just the thought had his spike tink against his (currently closed) panel. He could feel his valve start to warm and wet.
"I've got a full buffet down there for you~" he cooed, "If you'd like~" he smiled, his intake starting to water. "Please~ have at it, whatever you'd like. Do your worst!" and he was absolutely curious what their worst was!
The Eradicon exposed his array, both his fully pressurized spike and his wet valve.
Oh, Datashrike did NOT wait long. The moment he was fully exposed and permission was given? They were ducking down and giving everything in and around that array little bites and licks. Lapping up whatever energon was fresh drown from those pinprick wounds.
Once they were fully between his legs, the glider's head nuzzled in, anchored his legs around their shoulders and dug in. Tongue fully penetrating his valve and hand moving up to stroke and tease spike. Allen could tell how EAGER Datashrike was from the growling!
For a while the glider spent some time with the valve itself, but then slowly, gradually moved up to suck and nip on the ultrasensitive node. Even as hands picked up the pace...keeping the spike erect and out of the way, and viciously attended to.
Fandom: Transformers Prime // Personal Soulmate AU
Characters: Soundwave, Optimus Prime (ft. referenced Datashrike [owned by @datashrike] && Ash Brooks (owned by me/@fate-called])
Theme: Slice of Life
Commissioned by @datashrike!
Please note that Transformers, as a fandom, is a fandom I will allow to be commissioned on a highly selective basis, when it comes to writings.
[Ko-Fi || Commissions Post]
[Free to Reblog || Do Not Repost]
It was late. Even by his internal clock, it was late. Optimus had done his best to get the recharge required for keeping an optic on Ash during their meeting with Soundwave's apprentice, but...missions, patrols,- always too much to do, always too few to fill the gaps. A small vent rumbled out of his intake, blue idly tracing the stars overhead.
[?????] [So, you chose to accept.]
It was brief- a flicker of a message that crossed his processor. Bouncing harmlessly off like a ping. For the time being, Ratchet's encryptions held their ground. But Optimus would not be so foolhardy as to believe they would work forever. His finials slid, positioning themselves back up from their previously lackluster stance. A blue helm turned.
There, at the edges of the tree line before the cliff...he could make out the darkened silhouette of purple. Shades of it that melded and molded together, a dim outline that, at good speed, could be mistaken for a trick of one's senses.
"Yes." For the sake of courtesy. Of a touch of respect that he would afford any Decepticon. Enemies they were, they were still all Cybertronians...even Megatron would have been offered an open servo, would the mech but choose to take it.
He'd been unsurprised, when the other had actually accepted his invitation. That was the mech Optimus was. Always willing to offer a helping servo, kind to even his worst enemy, should the situation call it. A weakness. One he could openly exploit from time-to-time, one he knew his master would without so much as a second glance.
But his apprentice's request had been honored.- And for that, he would offer a moment of grace. The mech watched on, idle. The two could not have been from more differing worlds.
One stood in the darkness, the lights at the edge of his mask and laced across his framework allowing the barest illumination of his surroundings.
One stood wreathed by stars, his frame as dark as night, but the edges touched by the dust of galaxies on high. Only his eyes were bright, focused intently on what lay behind.
Both struggling for a light beyond their reach, in a war that seemingly held no end.
Soundwave's helm tilted by the smallest of fractions. He could see the way the other's frame paused, the barest tensing of battle-worn hydraulics and war-torn wires, ready. Even if he was granted this audience as a nicety, there was still no getting around the divide that separated the two.
Perhaps the next generation would hold the key to that line's erasure.
But those would be thoughts for another lunar cycle. Another lifetime, far removed from this conflict.
"They are- similar." An approximation of voices. A kaleidoscope of a thousand, condensed and warped down into one. Most who heard it were unnerved at best, terrified at worst. The Prime's gaze merely drifted. Were this a battle, Megatron would have rushed in by now. Cut the conversation abysmally short and rendered it all meaningless.
"Yes.." Soundwave mentally tagged on the sound of a skipped record to the conversation. "..in some ways, they are. It is a wonder, that beings from such different worlds...can see things in such close parallel."
"A wonder- from- beings so- fragile." His words ended in Starscream's sarcastic bite. An annoyed echo from solar cycles ago.
"You say that as though we are not just as fragile as they, Soundwave." Another speech. Trite- dull. He'd heard any number of the Prime's battle-ready addresses over the vorns. An arm raised, followed by long, thin digits.
Don't even start.
There was the barest flicker of disappointment from the Prime's EM Field. Just a taste, but enough for his delicate instruments to pick up on. The edges of his dermas ticked upward.
"I'm aware." He could guess as to the connection the Prime was attempting to draw. Any mech with half a processor could parse it out.
He'd been cut short. Admittedly, Soundwave hadn't been so rude as to outright speak overtop of him, but the motion had been enough. Optimus had halted the words before they could fully form; it still wasn't pleasant. He'd rather liked the thought he'd had in mind,...but it could wait.
There were a few questions arguing over which could spill off his glossa first- why Datashrike for an apprentice, for one,- why allow the two to meet, for two...the first...would be prying into Soundwave's personal life. Something not even Optimus had managed in all of his time online. He'd get nowhere if he attempted it. The second...he still wasn't entirely sure he would get an answer for.
But- nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"...why did you allow them to meet, Soundwave?" His gaze found an unfeeling visor. Blank as death. There never seemed to be a trace of the silent one's EM Field, either- forever a mystery, both on and off the battlefield. Optimus (attempted to) held the other's gaze. He was a Decepticon. While Datashrike's messages had stated he and Datashrike felt no ill will towards humanity,...he couldn't see a reason to interact with them. Every Decepticon he'd come across didn't care in the slightest for humanity.
"-company." The reply formed a mix inside his spark. Relief, worry, concern. All forced down (as always) and made into little more than quiet rumblings at the edges of his consciousness. All the same, his opticridges pushed slightly down.
He supposed the Decepticons wouldn't have the same sort of company a human provided.
By the same token, the Autobots wouldn't have the same sort of company that Decepticons provided (he'd certainly hope not, anyway).
The two could learn from one another. See both sides of the conflict. And, he didn't doubt, being Soundwave's apprentice most likely made tensions high between Datashrike and their compatriots. It was unlikely they had very many chances for actual conversation aboard the Nemesis. Everything could easily be tinged with unease. With the shadow of their master looming in the background.
For a moment, he recalled Ash actively flipping off the silent mech earlier. His engines nearly stalled out again, just being made to re-witness the moment. For one so tiny, their capacity to understand the danger they were in wildly fluctuated.
"Then I am glad Datashrike seems to have found company in Ash."
"They will- probably- meet again." He was on a roll, wasn't he? The amount of words he'd managed to wrangle from the Decepticon tonight must have been a record. Such thoughts were shuffled back as finials flicked back in discomfort, optics whirling in their sockets. Again,...
"If they do, what promise do I have that Ash will not be harmed?"
"What promise do I have that- my apprentice- will not be harmed?" His own voice was echoed back at him in chopped segments, only a few words replaced with an old, scratched tone. Logical and cold to the core. A voice he'd not heard in many, many vorns.
He never would have thought Soundwave would care that much for any being other than Megatron. The bond the two had he couldn't even begin to fathom, but he knew they'd been near to one another since the start of the war. To actively wish to protect something other than his master...
Optimus' tension eased. Plates shifting a fraction further out. Of all mechs, he'd never have guessed it of Soundwave...
"...my word." Soundwave's helm silently slid back into a more proper position. They both knew it would be meaningless on a battlefield. Under orders or under duress. The chances either could be killed by the enemy- or by mistakes from allies- was all too real. But these little...conversations,...these meetings,...
...everyone needed a whisper of peace.
"My word." The tone was warped and echoed, scratched and cut and stitched back together in a million different ways. A near-facsimile of the Prime's voice. Soundwave knew it was his own.
A portal ripped through space beside him. It scattered light and energy, greens and blues and whites tearing into existence- just as much the same appeared under the Prime's peds. He had little time to react. A few milliseconds before the ground under him ceased to be, and Optimus Prime plummeted into the vortex. His startled gasp found the mech's audials.
Oh, how hard it was to resist a laugh at the Prime's expense.
Optimus fell through the sideways funnel, rapidly gaining speed. He wasn't able to grab onto the walls, the energy slipped between his digits- instead he plunged ever-downward, optics filled with the cacophany of an active groundbridge. It was only seconds before he was shot out the other side- and landed with an almighty CRASH of metal on unforgiving pavement. Concrete scraped paint and pavement cracked under his weight. The whole of his frame rolled. He slid a few dozen feet as he spun, managing to force his servo down and gain better traction, peds slammed into the road behind.
He came to a screeching halt just outside...a rather familiar house.
Ash's house.
My word.
...highly concerning.
Soundwave stepped through his own portal, willing the one transporting the Prime to close after enough time had passed. He stepped into light and energy and swirling chaos, tamed by Decepticon engineering. His peds were silent with each step traversed, the only noise the howl of the cosmos attempting to obliterate an impossible bridge between locations.
He kept things from certain entities, at times. A number of details never reached Starscream's audials. Lower-level Vehicons weren't allowed to know significant operations outside of their immediate tasks. Soldiers needed only know the scope of their own jobs, as opposed to those around them. But there was one entity, one singular being, Soundwave could not lie to. Would not leave details out concerning...
Laserbeak warbled mutely against his chassis. An attempt at calming the faintest tremor in the mech's spark. He'd known what he was agreeing to, in allowing Datashrike to meet the organic. He'd figured on what it would entail, should the two get along. But a part of him had hoped it would be little more than a flightful fancy, one last trace of whimsy in his apprentice's spark that could be assuaged by a single conversation.
A brief flicker of a memory. Wreathed in darkness, playing recordings of clickings from some human movie- what was it, 'Predator'?...watching the tiny organic as they'd offered a bird to the darkness, to the terror he had used to frighten the other humans off. The raising of a second, the string of curses that echoed when he'd been revealed...
How amusing, for one so delicate.
And now, he was staring down the barrel of his consequences. Wrought from his own decisions. He'd stepped upon this path of his own volition.- But now, he had a secret...
"STOP PUTTING YOURSELF INTO DANGER!" PROMPTS
* assorted dialogue for expressing your fear that the person you care about might get themselves hurt if they keep acting like this, adjust as necessary
i thought i told you to stay back.
i love you too much to let you get hurt like this.
this affects me, too, you know.
every time you leave, i sit up all night waiting, praying you'll come back alive.
you keep pulling stunts like this and something bad will happen.
do you have a death wish or something?
this isn't fair to me.
i deserve better than this.
i didn't get any sleep last night because i was so worried about you.
you promised me you'd stop going out at night.
i don't like hearing this.
you've been risking your life, and for what? so you can feel like a goddamn hero?
i said i would handle it.
what the fuck are you doing here?
you told me you'd stay put.
so much for laying low.
you remember how bad it was last time.
seems like you haven't learned anything.
i believe you promised me you'd lay low.
i can't keep doing this.
don't give me that look.
we'll discuss this later.
this stops now.
i'm tired of picking up the pieces once you've left.
you keep throwing yourself into danger.
you don't give a shit about yourself, do you?
i'm sitting here, worried out of my mind, while you're out doing god knows what.
that was really stupid of you, and you know it.
i thought you knew better than this.
what's your excuse this time?
you do realize what this does to me, right? seeing you get hurt like this? you know it hurts me, too?
you really don't give a shit how this affects me, huh.
that was the dumbest possible thing you could have done.
i need you to stop throwing yourself into harm's way.
that was completely unnecessary.
they had it handled.
you didn't need to step in like that.
why do you think you're invincible?
the last time you pulled a stunt like this, it nearly got you killed.
i can't just sit here and watch you get hurt.
what are you trying to prove?
you just like fucking with my heart, don't you.
this shit hurts me, too, you know.
you're not the only one affected by this shit.
you've got a lot of people counting on you to come home every night.
what happens if you don't come back?
you think we can just carry on without you?
you think i can handle things if you end up dead?
i'm not sticking around to watch you get hurt.
you're not even slick.
you think you're invincible, don't you.
quit pretending you've got everything under control.
let someone else do it for a change.
you can't keep putting yourself through shit like this and expect me to just sit back and watch.
i'm done with this.
next time you do this, i'm not coming back.
promise me this is the end.
look me in the eyes and tell me you'll stop doing this.
He simply watches the other bot as Datashrike chatters on, trying to iron out the oh so important details of their totally logical plans. His single red optic slow blinking as their words go into one audial and directly out the other.
......the high grade has hit his processor. Hard.
And that seemed to be the same for Data. If her topic change was any indication.
"....you're pretty. I hope you realize..." He mutters before he can stop himself. Moving to lean his helm against theirs.
A very soft, almost serious huff. As if the femme had somehow sobered up. "If only there was a mouth to kiss you on...but, I think I like this better."
They raised his hand, kissing the knuckles of his claws with an almost reverent air. "You have me for the night...if you want me."
Because Primus suddenly they very much wanted HIM.
He always thought he'd never be caught. Cornered. While on scouting mission.
He was simply too fast. Too adaptable. Clever. Lucky.
But, once again, Herbie had been given one hell of a reality check. Oh, he hadn't made it easy. He'd fought hard, speed harder. But it hadn't been enough. He'd been captured.
His only 'luck' being that the Cons had decided to take him as a POW instead of just offlining him then and there. Now, he had no idea what was coming next. But doubted it was any good...
More flashing silly lights from that visor. It was pretty cu-
NO!
FOCUS!
Herbie readily takes the ridiculously large information chip, grunting softly out of pure surprise when he feels the weight of the damn thing in his hand.
THIS was a list of "informants"?!
.....Did Soundwave just wink at him-?!
The racer's cheeks flush slightly at that and he makes a noise as if clearing his throat.
"Well, I'd hardly call myself an informant but....I get it. Go down this list of potential allies, gather information. And, I assume, keep our own movements discreet....."
"Sounds like fun."
He can't help but grin, a too large part of him actually eager to be doing something "productive" again after so long....even if it was such an unorthodox situation such as this...
Then again. Herbie was nothing but unorthodox....
"Alright. Let's get started, then? Where's the terminal I can use to review this ridiculously huge data chip....?'
That voice was growled, heavy with static and...something else. Need? Eagerness? It was hard to tell with the mech's speech layered over with filter, static and vocoders...
But the body language? That spoke PLENTY. He moved forward in one move smooth motion, firmly planting the long plane of one arm behind Herbie alongside the wall, just above his head. Screened visor leaning in, flickering a deep, DEEP pink.
There was still room for the bug to move. To LEAVE if he so wanted. Soundwave simply did not NEED to extrapolate his wants here. Because a second arm reached up, delicately touching the Autobot's face, trailing long, probing fingers along that neck.
That first initial growl from Soundwave makes the racer immediately start to heat up. The noise totally unexpected, but not unwelcome. If there was any doubt on what it could mean, the taller mech's actions really spelled things out.
Herbie finds himself backed against a wall, once more basically caged in but left a small opening to opt out if he so wanted...
The problem was, once again, the racer found himself not wanting to leave.
Instead he was staring up into that bright pink visor with a flushed, almost needy expression. Denta biting his lip as oddly long fingers made surprisingly soft contact. Herbie unable to repress a shiver from the touches. So much promise in them.
"I....."
He vents, taking in the other mech's scent and it makes his engine rev excitedly. The bug could feel his spike starting to stir behind his modesty panel. And his valve was already beginning to wet. Just from this alone.
Every reason he could think of NOT to say yes just crumbled away almost instantly.....
A brightly painted hand comes up to smooth along Soundwave's chassis, while the other quickly subspaces the ridiculous data chip before it also starts touching the larger mech. Returning desire obvious.
Soundwave moved faster than Herbie could have ever predicted just then. Legs came to sweep the feet out from under the bug, arms slashing off the walls to shove him swiftly but carefully into the berth next to them.
The sound that dripped from the mech's speaker's was less words and more a SNARL. A predator who had finally snagged his prey. Electrified kisses snaked hard and sharp along Herbie's neck cabling, created by static purely from that faceless screen. Thin, horrid digits came up to drag wrists up and over the other's helm, knees hissing over the berth to part legs and move them into a more comfortable and...
The mech looked down at the credit chip in his hand, turning it over slowly in skilled fingers. The other hand reverted from its bladed hook formation to a barbed fist. So very different than the one holding the chip. The entire mech was mismatched, and yet he still looked so whole. So deadly.
Even more so when that snaggled grin showed itself. "Almost a little too easy. Tempted to let you go again, just to watch you squirm a bit more, ya know? Make it fun. Make it INTERESTING."
Well, she had THOUGHT she had been close… Aaargh, curse her smallness! An unfortunate thing for her that the bounty hunter was accustomed to handling targets much bigger than her, and only a fraction of the restraints were needed to trap her. Her legs kicked and her shoulder joints jerked back and forth for but a moment before she froze where she was held and got a good look at her captor.
A Decepticon...? Probably. He didn't match any description she'd heard from Optimus or Ratchet thus far. And the way he teased and sneered…she had seen it before. Not very dissimilar from a wolf taunting a rabbit. The helper bot was smart enough to know which side of that relationship she was on, yet wise enough to know she shouldn't expose herself as such.
Yes, she may have freaked out earlier and tried to bust her way out. Fight or flight response.
“...Why did you want me…?” Better her than Optimus or another Autobot of importance, frankly, but… “I-I’m not Cybertronian. I’m human-made.”
Lockdown let her talk. Let her struggle. Let her take her time and THINK. Process everything...and when the question that had been asked by so many of his targets before came, he was almost gentle. Patient as he knelt down and shook his head. He never got tired of indulging his prey with answers.
"Oh, now darlin' I think you know that's a white lie. Not even the least bit true. We know you are human made, but that's not what's concerning my clients. We've seen you with the Autobots. A faction neutral human-made thing like you hanging out with them? Yeah, that's gonna make certain parties REAL interested. But I think you knew that, hm?"
Haughty music blared. A beat that never wound down or faded, setting a background for a roiling pot of greed and sin that never slept. The name and location was one of the closest kept secrets in the galaxy and yet it was CONSTANTLY full. Constantly noisy, constantly smoky, constantly stank, and was always, constantly rich.
The place was a meeting point for some of the worst things the galaxy had to offer. Living beings were sold here, died here, traded here, hired here, killed here. Countless had made their fortunes here, and countless more had lost it all, including their lives.
It was where Lockdown and his team lingered most often. Where he did BUSINESS. And right now, that business was ripe. The bar he lounged in now was a bit more secluded if only because his sort of work required a certain sort of person, and they were never here to party. Nah. Lockdown handled the dirty slag. Bounty work. Merc work.
He and his team were top of the game, too.
And right now he was browsing only the top posts. Bounties and jobs that were so dangerous and anonymous, often times they just contained a target name and a PRICE.
And right now, he was looking at the cream of the crop. Fragging TARN was up, for more shanix than the hunter had ever earned in one setting before.
Interesting.
There was just ONE other who was looking at the same board...and Lockdown almost SNORTED at him.
How the mercenary got here wasn't important, but it was obvious that he definitely wasn't from around here. His frame resembled that of hot rod or rodimus, but instead of that usual bright red, it was all replaced with an iridescent black paint job. He had Silver accents on his arms, thighs and spoiler, and his chest was adorned with aggressive purple flames that were outlined in white detailing. In the very center of those flames, there was an Autobot symbol, which was oddly enough, purple instead of red. The symbol blended into those flames, with it's only defining feature being the obvious white outline making it pop. The bots optics and tinted windows were also a dark 'blood' red, attributing to his 'gothic' vibe.
Even though he stood out amongst the others because of his resemblance to rodimus, he still looked the part. Aside from that silly drawn on stache that only really looked good from a distance. He had two weapons, his laser blaster and blaster rifle, magnetized to his hip skirts, along with his flame cannon attached to his back. He was well armed, so it was clear that he too, was here for business reasons.
Having come from another universe, he was eager to to see what game was hereto hunt, and so far rodimus wasn't disappointed. Back in his own universe, most of the dangerous bots were already taken out, which left the weaker ones to be picked off. It just wasn't as fun anymore, and that's why he was here. Rodimus wanted to taste the thrill again, to relive the days before he served optimus. Perhaps this would be what he needed.
Before his thoughts could go any deeper, he was suddenly pulled back to reality by a voice. His helm lifted before turning to look at the other. He wasn't too incredibly enthusiastic about his 'drawn on' mustache being brought front and center.
Lockdown's smile almost faltered. Was this mech serious? All that good hardware and the STASH was painted on?
The first words out of his mouth therefor was a straightforward. "Why?"
Followed a cough that might well have been a startled and amused giggle. "Slag, mech. Why not just get it tatted on? Someone can attack you with some paint thinner and you're all sparkling-faced again. Show a little dedication, yeah?"
[ CAUGHT ]: sender finds receiver somewhere they aren't supposed to be. //Flash Vector to Soundwave. (Can be reversed too. Either works with these boys. :3)
The night was late. Very late, mere hours before dawn. The noise that drew Flash Vector out of recharge was faint. A small clunk, like a heavy conduit connecting with a port that protested a little too much. Followed by the baritone hum of power flowing before an even softer pop masked the rest.
It was enough.
As was the almost phantasmal glow of deep lavender lurking nearby, perfectly still and so dim a human might have missed it. But then, card bots were not human, and Flash Vector was quick to catch details...
Flash Vector's always been a light sleeper, that night included. A disturbance awakened him from his berth as he quietly stood up one pede at a time. Follow the fade noises, get to the source.
The source stood there like a menacing pillar, that sent his warning signals high enough for him to tug out his blades. Guarded, and alert, his frame disappeared in an attempt to jump on the strangers back to hold one of his blades by the front of his neck cables.
A hiss. Like static filtering through a vocoder, or autotuned into something sharp and MENACING. The moment Flash Vector vanished, the figure was standing to its full height. In truth it was hardly much taller than the mech, hunched over slightly with long arms and legs out of portion with the rest of its deep lavender body.
But that's not what was moving exactly, no. Attached to Edo's power box was a massive cable as big and thick around as one of the speedster's arms, a second one free and whipping out towards his last known location. BOTH were attached to the intruder's torso, pulsating with neon energy and tipped with claws that sparked!
"You have been having conversations with Starscream again."
The voice drone out, soft but heavy. For Nightshroud, up until then, the Nemesis had been quiet. A mining operation had yielded mild success and most of the Eradicons and Vehicons were deeper in the bowels of the great warship processing these spoils of war.
So the sudden intrusion from Soundwave of all mechs would be...unnerving, so say the least.
Nightshroud ex-vented deeply, the faintest of grumbles buried underneath the sharp vent.
Talking to Soundwave wasn't her idea of a fun time, but she knew eventually this conversation was going to come up - whether it be Soundwave of someone else. Yes she'd been talking to Starscream again; she wasn't afraid to admit that. The problem was the instant blame game that came with associating herself with him.
Starscream wasn't the problem in this situation. Everyone else was.
"So?"
Nightshroud turned around, optics narrowed as she stared at Soundwave. "He's my commander. I report to him. Why wouldn't I speak with him?"
Wasn't entirely a lie. The other seekers primarily reported to Starscream, so what was so suspicious? So what if their talks were just a little more casual than providing a mission report?
When their optics met, it was with red spheres reflecting in the glossed, inky black of a screen. A screen that now blinked to life, washing the darkened hall in dull shades.
The playback Soundwave replied with was one of many conversations she had indeed engaged in. All of them within context to some of Starscream's many promises of deceit. Highlighting...certain details she agreed to. Doubts, of course. Subtle hints hidden in deeper words. Things that Soundwave of course WOULD notice, but others might miss.
He did not need to actually SAY anything further. The evidence was there.
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