![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wyntir_knightIt took a while, but here we are back at the Decepticons.
Chapter 16
Soundwave stumbled into the quarters he had taken as his own and watched dully as Laserbeak and Buzzsaw took their places at the head of the recharge berth. His chest ached where his connection to Ratbat had been lost and in the edges of his mind he still heard the seductive voice offering him everything. Using all of his resolve, he blocked off the external distractions. He raised his arm for Laserbeak and began to stroke the bird’s head with slow, deliberate movements. The motion and the presence of his first cassette helped in his focus; helped him to regain control over himself and his surroundings. Slowly, the ache in his chest diminished and he was able to continue with the task at hand. He had to find Ratbat, and, judging by the other scream, he had to find Red Eye as well.
“Ratbat. Report,” Soundwave ordered, opening a communication to his cassette. There was no response.
“All cassettes report,” he ordered, widening the band to include all his minions.
“Here, boss,” Rumble replied.
“Everything’s quiet boss. No sign that anyone’s found the door in,” Frenzy said.
“There has been no further noise from the chamber,” Ravage said in his quiet purr. “There is no sign of further danger or any difficulties.”
There was still no reply from Ratbat, not even the mental static that would indicate damage to his radio or his destruction. Soundwave turned his thoughts inward while stretching all his senses out in search of the missing cassette. Without leaving the room, Soundwave flew through the underground, passing from room to room, corridor to corridor, his mind touching briefly on each of his cassettes, brushing each of their minds with his in a passing caress. As he searched, he felt another mind, a greater mind, examining him and his progress.
“You cannot be allowed to continue in this effort,” a voice said. It was a deep and dark as the furthest reaches of space.
Soundwave stopped his search for Ratbat and turned his guarded attention to the mind. With a gentle touch, he prodded forward and felt himself enveloped. Quickly, he pulled back, reinforcing all of his mental barriers.
“You may recover the others, but I cannot allow you to reconstruct Megatron,” it continued.
“Megatron is required. Interference is irrelevant,” Soundwave replied.
“This does not fit in with the existing plans. This cannot be allowed to continue. You will cease your efforts. You will call off the Programmers,” the consciousness said.
Soundwave felt the mind reach past his defences, felt it brush his shields aside as if they were made of tissue. The consciousness reached into his mind and began to stroke and probe at his very essence. The experience was both intensely pleasurable and deeply unsettling.
“Your plans are irrelevant,” Soundwave said coldly, steeling his mind against this assault. He turned his attention back to finding Ratbat but was suddenly dragged back by the voice. It was like iron talons were being dug into his spark, like he was being flung down into a dark pit from which there was no escape.
“I do not wish to harm you or any of The Children, but you cannot be allowed to continue,” the voice said calmly. “If you insist on following this path, I will be forced to take action against you and your followers.”
A female scream ripped through the silence of his mind and his vision was filled with images of Starbolt fending off shadowy arms. The corridor in which she stood was similar to the inside of Unicron; less menacing than the Chaos Bringer, but just as dangerous.
“That is regrettable, but does not change reality. Megatron is required to restore balance,” Soundwave replied.
“Megatron is the cause of the imbalance,” the voice said, squeezing itself around his spark.
Soundwave gasped involuntarily at the increased pressure. Gathering all of his formidable mental strength, he pressed back against the consciousness, holding it at bay while probing for any weakness to take advantage of.
“Your information is faulty. Galvatron is the imbalance,” he replied tightly.
“Galvatron no longer exists. I had not realized just how far you Decepticons had fallen from the light. There was a time when you would never have resorted to such an obvious lie,” the voice sneered, though Soundwave thought he detected an edge of fear to the voice.
“Galvatron and his Unicronians exist. They are a threat neither the Autobots nor the Decepticons can defeat. Megatron is required.”
“There are no Unicronians. Unicron was defeated.” There was definite fear in the voice now.
Soundwave felt the mind continue to lash out at him, but the assault was now one of desperation rather than an attempt to convince through force. It was obvious that this mind, whatever it was, did not want to hear any form of truth. It had made its decision, and regardless of irrationality, it was holding to its belief. Soundwave knew he could never tell this being anything, so, steeling himself, he showed it the truth.
Opening a portion of his mind to the assault, Soundwave pressed forward some limited information on Unicron. He released images Galvatron, Scourge, and Cyclonus during Unicron’s assault on Cybertron, and he felt the mind pull back from this. Taking advantage of this retreat, Soundwave continued foreward, presenting images of Unicron’s head floating above Cybertron, glaring down at the planet and its people.
“Your information is faulty. Unicron was arrested, not defeated,” he said finally.
There was a moment of deep indecision. Soundwave felt the mind waver and hasitate, and then there was nothing. Silence filled Soundwave’s mind. He reached out and felt for the consciousness, but found nothing. Suddenly he felt the Ratbat brush his mind and announce his location.
***
Deep in the heart of Cybertron the Watcher stood by a console, observing a bank of failing monitors with optics that had become white with age. He studied the Communicator as he consulted with his small children. He watched the Warrior as he fought his way out of the trap that had been set for him. On another monitor, the Cannibal child of a foreign god flailed wildly against her cage, fighting with the ferocity of an untamed beast. And deep in the control chamber, deep in the Heart of Vector Sigma, the twin Programmer alien continued to probe and press forward, fighting the barriers that were placed in his way, breaking through every defence with agility and speed unlike any the Watcher had ever seen.
The Watcher looked up to the crystal suspended above his head and sighed slightly. It had been too long since he had heard his lord’s voice, too long since he had been tested, and now, as the last guardian of this sacred place, he feared that he would fail in his duty. He stepped toward the monitor that showed the Programmer. Reaching into a cavity in his chest, he prepared to plug himself in, to fight the Programmer himself.
“Stop,” he heard a voice whisper.
It was almost silent, like the sound of a half remembered breeze. The Watcher froze and looked up at the crystal. Its soft yellow glow brightened slightly and a soft, barely perceptible hum filled the air.
“Master?” the Watcher asked. His voice was similar to that of the crystal, deep, dark, and ancient, but it lacked the resonance and power that the crystal held. He was but a shadow of the master he served.
“Let them continue,” the voice whispered.
“But Master! They are interfering with your plans!” the Watcher protested.
“My plans have changed in the face of this new information you have gleaned from the child. Let them continue. Help them to succeed.” The voice was still a whisper, but there was a steel edge to it that allowed for no argument.
“Yes Master,” the Watcher replied as he cowered back from the crystal.
He turned back to the monitor in with the Programmer was shown. Plugging himself in, he slowly removed the barriers to the Programmer’s progress, allowing them to think that they had defeated the security system. Hiding in the shadows of the system, the Watcher carefully aided the Programmer in their work, quietly and gently pressing in the proper direction until he was sure they could complete their task.
After a time, he pulled back from the console. Unplugging himself, he looked up at the crystal and sighed softly. In the silence of the room, he continued his observation of the Children of Primus.
***
Syntax Forth worked the computer delicately, stroking systems and paths with the gentle touch of a lover. Slowly he worked his magic, encouraging Vector Sigma to rebuild Megatron according to Soundwave’s schematics. As he worked, his brother watched the room, intently guarding him against any further attack. It was likely there would be no further action against them, but Syntax Forth wasn’t about to bet his or his brother’s life on that.
The system continued to block him, setting up walls and locks. Barrier after barrier appeared in his path and he defeated them all. As he worked, these defences became more complex, more advanced, and more dangerous. More than once he feared that the system would best him. It was as if he was working against a sentient mind, rather than a simple machine. It seemed to take far longer than he had originally anticipated, and the system seemed to learn as they continued to play their game.
Then, suddenly, things became easier. It was as if the system had given up and was only mounting a token, lacklustre defence. Syntax Forth slowed, moved more cautiously forward. This was wrong. It set off ancient and ingrained alarm bells, warning systems that had kept him alive for far longer than he cared to remember. His brother came close, hearing his concern, and offered a portion of his mind to work on the problem.
Probing and poking along the path set before them, they searched out the trap that they knew was ahead of them. Nothing was obvious and that made them even more nervous. Cautiously, they began to withdraw. They had not lived this long by taking chances or ignoring their instincts. They were potentially the last of their kind and they would not risk their continued existence.
“Stop,” a soft voice said. “We acknowledge what you are doing and will no longer stand in your way. Continue in your efforts.”
Syntax Forth ceased his retreat. He paused and listened to the voice and consulted with his brother. After a moment, he pressed forward and met with no resistance. Pausing again, weighing the odds, he pulled his mind out of the system completely. Standing up, he withdrew his hands from the port, retrieved his mass from his brother, and together, they continued the process of restoring Megatron.
Now that there was no resistance, the process moved swiftly. They programmed the information into Vector Sigma and this time, there was no rejection. Syntax Forth stepped back from the giant computer and the pods, admiring their work.
“Soundwave,” they said together, “you may come to greet your Lord Megatron.”
As they closed the channel, the three pods behind them hissed open.
Soundwave stumbled into the quarters he had taken as his own and watched dully as Laserbeak and Buzzsaw took their places at the head of the recharge berth. His chest ached where his connection to Ratbat had been lost and in the edges of his mind he still heard the seductive voice offering him everything. Using all of his resolve, he blocked off the external distractions. He raised his arm for Laserbeak and began to stroke the bird’s head with slow, deliberate movements. The motion and the presence of his first cassette helped in his focus; helped him to regain control over himself and his surroundings. Slowly, the ache in his chest diminished and he was able to continue with the task at hand. He had to find Ratbat, and, judging by the other scream, he had to find Red Eye as well.
“Ratbat. Report,” Soundwave ordered, opening a communication to his cassette. There was no response.
“All cassettes report,” he ordered, widening the band to include all his minions.
“Here, boss,” Rumble replied.
“Everything’s quiet boss. No sign that anyone’s found the door in,” Frenzy said.
“There has been no further noise from the chamber,” Ravage said in his quiet purr. “There is no sign of further danger or any difficulties.”
There was still no reply from Ratbat, not even the mental static that would indicate damage to his radio or his destruction. Soundwave turned his thoughts inward while stretching all his senses out in search of the missing cassette. Without leaving the room, Soundwave flew through the underground, passing from room to room, corridor to corridor, his mind touching briefly on each of his cassettes, brushing each of their minds with his in a passing caress. As he searched, he felt another mind, a greater mind, examining him and his progress.
“You cannot be allowed to continue in this effort,” a voice said. It was a deep and dark as the furthest reaches of space.
Soundwave stopped his search for Ratbat and turned his guarded attention to the mind. With a gentle touch, he prodded forward and felt himself enveloped. Quickly, he pulled back, reinforcing all of his mental barriers.
“You may recover the others, but I cannot allow you to reconstruct Megatron,” it continued.
“Megatron is required. Interference is irrelevant,” Soundwave replied.
“This does not fit in with the existing plans. This cannot be allowed to continue. You will cease your efforts. You will call off the Programmers,” the consciousness said.
Soundwave felt the mind reach past his defences, felt it brush his shields aside as if they were made of tissue. The consciousness reached into his mind and began to stroke and probe at his very essence. The experience was both intensely pleasurable and deeply unsettling.
“Your plans are irrelevant,” Soundwave said coldly, steeling his mind against this assault. He turned his attention back to finding Ratbat but was suddenly dragged back by the voice. It was like iron talons were being dug into his spark, like he was being flung down into a dark pit from which there was no escape.
“I do not wish to harm you or any of The Children, but you cannot be allowed to continue,” the voice said calmly. “If you insist on following this path, I will be forced to take action against you and your followers.”
A female scream ripped through the silence of his mind and his vision was filled with images of Starbolt fending off shadowy arms. The corridor in which she stood was similar to the inside of Unicron; less menacing than the Chaos Bringer, but just as dangerous.
“That is regrettable, but does not change reality. Megatron is required to restore balance,” Soundwave replied.
“Megatron is the cause of the imbalance,” the voice said, squeezing itself around his spark.
Soundwave gasped involuntarily at the increased pressure. Gathering all of his formidable mental strength, he pressed back against the consciousness, holding it at bay while probing for any weakness to take advantage of.
“Your information is faulty. Galvatron is the imbalance,” he replied tightly.
“Galvatron no longer exists. I had not realized just how far you Decepticons had fallen from the light. There was a time when you would never have resorted to such an obvious lie,” the voice sneered, though Soundwave thought he detected an edge of fear to the voice.
“Galvatron and his Unicronians exist. They are a threat neither the Autobots nor the Decepticons can defeat. Megatron is required.”
“There are no Unicronians. Unicron was defeated.” There was definite fear in the voice now.
Soundwave felt the mind continue to lash out at him, but the assault was now one of desperation rather than an attempt to convince through force. It was obvious that this mind, whatever it was, did not want to hear any form of truth. It had made its decision, and regardless of irrationality, it was holding to its belief. Soundwave knew he could never tell this being anything, so, steeling himself, he showed it the truth.
Opening a portion of his mind to the assault, Soundwave pressed forward some limited information on Unicron. He released images Galvatron, Scourge, and Cyclonus during Unicron’s assault on Cybertron, and he felt the mind pull back from this. Taking advantage of this retreat, Soundwave continued foreward, presenting images of Unicron’s head floating above Cybertron, glaring down at the planet and its people.
“Your information is faulty. Unicron was arrested, not defeated,” he said finally.
There was a moment of deep indecision. Soundwave felt the mind waver and hasitate, and then there was nothing. Silence filled Soundwave’s mind. He reached out and felt for the consciousness, but found nothing. Suddenly he felt the Ratbat brush his mind and announce his location.
Deep in the heart of Cybertron the Watcher stood by a console, observing a bank of failing monitors with optics that had become white with age. He studied the Communicator as he consulted with his small children. He watched the Warrior as he fought his way out of the trap that had been set for him. On another monitor, the Cannibal child of a foreign god flailed wildly against her cage, fighting with the ferocity of an untamed beast. And deep in the control chamber, deep in the Heart of Vector Sigma, the twin Programmer alien continued to probe and press forward, fighting the barriers that were placed in his way, breaking through every defence with agility and speed unlike any the Watcher had ever seen.
The Watcher looked up to the crystal suspended above his head and sighed slightly. It had been too long since he had heard his lord’s voice, too long since he had been tested, and now, as the last guardian of this sacred place, he feared that he would fail in his duty. He stepped toward the monitor that showed the Programmer. Reaching into a cavity in his chest, he prepared to plug himself in, to fight the Programmer himself.
“Stop,” he heard a voice whisper.
It was almost silent, like the sound of a half remembered breeze. The Watcher froze and looked up at the crystal. Its soft yellow glow brightened slightly and a soft, barely perceptible hum filled the air.
“Master?” the Watcher asked. His voice was similar to that of the crystal, deep, dark, and ancient, but it lacked the resonance and power that the crystal held. He was but a shadow of the master he served.
“Let them continue,” the voice whispered.
“But Master! They are interfering with your plans!” the Watcher protested.
“My plans have changed in the face of this new information you have gleaned from the child. Let them continue. Help them to succeed.” The voice was still a whisper, but there was a steel edge to it that allowed for no argument.
“Yes Master,” the Watcher replied as he cowered back from the crystal.
He turned back to the monitor in with the Programmer was shown. Plugging himself in, he slowly removed the barriers to the Programmer’s progress, allowing them to think that they had defeated the security system. Hiding in the shadows of the system, the Watcher carefully aided the Programmer in their work, quietly and gently pressing in the proper direction until he was sure they could complete their task.
After a time, he pulled back from the console. Unplugging himself, he looked up at the crystal and sighed softly. In the silence of the room, he continued his observation of the Children of Primus.
Syntax Forth worked the computer delicately, stroking systems and paths with the gentle touch of a lover. Slowly he worked his magic, encouraging Vector Sigma to rebuild Megatron according to Soundwave’s schematics. As he worked, his brother watched the room, intently guarding him against any further attack. It was likely there would be no further action against them, but Syntax Forth wasn’t about to bet his or his brother’s life on that.
The system continued to block him, setting up walls and locks. Barrier after barrier appeared in his path and he defeated them all. As he worked, these defences became more complex, more advanced, and more dangerous. More than once he feared that the system would best him. It was as if he was working against a sentient mind, rather than a simple machine. It seemed to take far longer than he had originally anticipated, and the system seemed to learn as they continued to play their game.
Then, suddenly, things became easier. It was as if the system had given up and was only mounting a token, lacklustre defence. Syntax Forth slowed, moved more cautiously forward. This was wrong. It set off ancient and ingrained alarm bells, warning systems that had kept him alive for far longer than he cared to remember. His brother came close, hearing his concern, and offered a portion of his mind to work on the problem.
Probing and poking along the path set before them, they searched out the trap that they knew was ahead of them. Nothing was obvious and that made them even more nervous. Cautiously, they began to withdraw. They had not lived this long by taking chances or ignoring their instincts. They were potentially the last of their kind and they would not risk their continued existence.
“Stop,” a soft voice said. “We acknowledge what you are doing and will no longer stand in your way. Continue in your efforts.”
Syntax Forth ceased his retreat. He paused and listened to the voice and consulted with his brother. After a moment, he pressed forward and met with no resistance. Pausing again, weighing the odds, he pulled his mind out of the system completely. Standing up, he withdrew his hands from the port, retrieved his mass from his brother, and together, they continued the process of restoring Megatron.
Now that there was no resistance, the process moved swiftly. They programmed the information into Vector Sigma and this time, there was no rejection. Syntax Forth stepped back from the giant computer and the pods, admiring their work.
“Soundwave,” they said together, “you may come to greet your Lord Megatron.”
As they closed the channel, the three pods behind them hissed open.