CHAPTER 2: AGENT SPHINCTER

I'd been trapped in this room for hours now, and had explained my involvement in Mission City about five times. A man had come in, official in his suit and tie, and taken my cellphone, the AED I'd still been packing and my wallet. Even my car keys had been taken. Amy wasn't going anywhere without those, and I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be in this room.

Someone had brought me a plate of donuts and a cup of black coffee, horribly strong. I'd eaten one, a Boston Cream that had been slightly stale. My stomach growled, but I didn't want to eat more sugar and fat. This was frustrating; what was I even being held for?

As far as I could piece together, there was a robotic car that some people considered to be an alien loose in Mission City. Arguably, I had been involved.

I'd thought that all I needed to do would be sign some sort of confidentiality agreement, agree not to say anything about what I had seen, and be free to go. But apparently not. I'd been in here for hours and hours, since four in the afternoon and it was pushing midnight now. I was starting to think that I'd been forgotten about and left to rot. The door was locked, and a camera had its beady red light focused on me.

That was ridiculous; as if I had any information that they would want. I was a nurse, for heaven's sakes, I had just been doing what I could. I was starting to get really pissed off; there was no reason to keep me here. I was completely harmless.

Standing up, I stretched loosely, working out the kinks in my legs and back and sighed. Moving over to the door, I rapped on it, aggravation making my face blank.

"Any news on when I'm getting out of here?" I asked, voice clear and annoyed. My hip rested on the wall beside the door, and there was no answer from anyone outside. I checked the knob; locked.

If I had been left in here while the suits had left for the night, I was going to be seriously pissed off. Someone would hear about it; that was for sure.

Amy was probably going crazy by now; there was no doubt that I'd have dozens of calls missed from her when I got my phone back. My stomach growled again, and I forcefully shoved the idea of more donuts from my mind.

Starscream spiralled away from Earth, processors whirling around the new information he had. Megatron was dead. The Allspark was gone.

He was the leader now.

He was the leader of the Decepticons. All the things that Megatron had done to him, all the slag that he'd done had paid off. He was the leader.

Plans raced through his processors. He always thought best when he was flying.

He needed to plan how he would break the news to the rest of the Decepticons.

As he flew away from the Earth, thrusters firing, he swivelled to aim for Soundwave's location on Mars. Soundwave would need to let the troops know. Starscream was unsure how many of the Decepticons would follow him - Megatron had been the charismatic one, and after decavorns of appearing as a cowardly, challenging second, he would be a shock.

But his plans would have worked. He knew they would have - Megatron was so focused on Optimus Prime, fighting him and defeating him, that he disregarded plans that actually made sense. Starscream had had a shot at Prime many times - could have had Skywarp jump in, grab him, and drop him from thirty thousand feet and that would have been the end of that.

Megatron would never listen.

He streaked toward Mars, thinking about what he had to do. He needed Soundwave for his side if he wanted to keep the troops securely in communication. The Autobots had Blaster, and he needed Soundwave.

Without Soundwave, the whole thing would have fallen apart eons ago.

If he couldn't get Soundwave, he'd need to offline Blaster, even the odds.

So he needed the creepy fragger and his damnable minicons. And he needed the carrier securely on his side, not double-dealing him. Unfortunately, the carrier had no reason to really trust him, considering how many times he'd messed with the mech and tried to blame him for something that had gone wrong so he wouldn't be in Megatron's crosshairs.

He had to try, because Soundwave was the instrument holding the entire army together.

Within two joors, he was landing on Mars. Nothing like the silly humans who lived on Earth, he had internal heat shielding. It was a flaw that the Autobots didn't have very many seekers - they had to rely on their protoform to enter a planet and were stuck there unless they had a ship.

Which they didn't have. And if he had his way, he'd leave Prime stranded on the planet. Soundwave could likely string up a blockade that would block Earth for around a vorn, or he could send in some seekers to finish the job.

Yes. He would send out that order right after he talked to Soundwave. Starscream landed, transforming in mid air and hovering, thrusters on hot. He didn't need to fire them as intensely as on Earth as the gravity was much lighter on this little red planet.

Soundwave was waiting for him, or rather, one of his minicons was waiting. The felinoid, a sleek black form with silvery accents stared at him and his flashy silver form.

Ravage didn't speak to him, merely looked.

Irritated, he snapped at the black minicon. "Where's your master?"

Ravage flipped an ear at him and curled his balancing appendage around his front legs, completely ignoring him now.

Starscream glared at the little minicon. On a comm. line, he talked to Soundwave.

-Starscream here, I have news of the battle on Earth.-

-Yes?- Soundwave sent back, dry and flat.

Starscream had to stop himself from puffing up with pride - Soundwave was allegedly extremely loyal to Megatron, from the time of the gladiatorial rings until now. He needed to handle this delicately.

Not screech out that Megatron was dead. Starscream landed, puffs of red dust floating up. They floated in the light for a while longer than the dirt on Earth had.

-Lord Megatron was killed attempting to retrieve the Allspark. A human managed to destroy his spark.-

Soundwave was silent for a moment. Then, -Lord Megatron confirmed offline?-

Starscream sent him an affirmative. He wasn't sure what Soundwave was going to do now; he needed to show his hand a little.

-I'm the leader now.-

He walked into view of the carrier, the normally gleaming blue armour covered with a thin film of red dust. Soundwave had created a small area to protect his minicons. It was a rickety little structure of metal, just protecting them from the wind and dust storms that characterized Mars' weather.

The cold wasn't as much a factor - if the minicons were too cold with their smaller heating systems, they'd just hop into Soundwave's chest.

Soundwave was tucked into a corner, polishing the purple minicon's arm with a small cloth. Ravage padded in behind Starscream, curled up beside Soundwave's arm, and stared at Starscream intensely.

Starscream took a step forward, trying to judge the carrier's reaction. Soundwave was a master of concealing his feelings on any matter - Starscream was not. But he was perceptive.

Soundwave hadn't replied in more than twenty astroseconds, and Starscream was impatient.

-Well?-

Soundwave replied out loud after another ten astroseconds. "Starscream, now leader?"

"Yes," he preened.

"Starscream requires Soundwave's assistance," the blue mech continued, watching Starscream with his red visor.

Starscream couldn't hide his small wince. Yes, he needed the communications expert to follow him if he had a chance of getting the rest of the troops to follow him, as well as keeping the Decepticons ahead of the Autobots.

Soundwave stared at him for a long moment.

"Starscream as leader projects Decepticons losing within two vorns."

Stung, he could only gape at the silent carrier. He recovered swiftly, glaring at Soundwave.

"Two vorns? Check your data again, Soundwave."

Soundwave looked coolly back at him.

"I have rechecked the data. Starscream has neither control, power or charisma to enforce leadership. Autobots will take advantage of confusion."

"So you will abandon your Decepticon eons of service, abandon the cause?" he shrieked, vocalizer starting to slip into his Vosnian vocal patterns.

Soundwave merely turned his attention back to the little purple one.

Starscream was angry, that Soundwave would so easily turn on him, on the cause.

"What will you do, who will take you? Surely not the Autobots," he sneered.

"Soundwave will find Frenzy."

"And then? What then, what can you do? You're wanted on multiple worlds, no one will hire you, and Cybertron is a barren wasteland!"

"Soundwave will survive," he said simply.

Rumble glared at Starscream, before smirking. "Aww, Screamy's scared! He's aww awone in the big galaxy."

"Rumble, desist," Soundwave said to the small mech.

Starscream clenched a fist, anger racing through his circuitry. Soundwave didn't think he could take control of the Decepticons? Megatron had told him the same thing, and he knew that he could, he knew that he could do it.

"I'll be fine," he hissed, wings flaring out as he took a step forward. Ravage's form tightened as he eyed the Seeker warily. Soundwave laid a hand on the felinoid's back calmingly.

Starscream continued. "I'll prove it to everyone that I can be a better leader than Megatron ever was!"

Rumble snorted. "How're you gunna do that when all you ever did was cower ta Megatron?"

Starscream growled at the impudent little mech, and Soundwave put a firm hand on his minicon.

"Rumble, enough," he said firmly. Starscream snarled at the little menace.

"You little - as if you'd do any better!"

Rumble smirked up at him. "I've got Soundwave and he's better than you at everything," he taunted.

Starscream nearly lost his temper and Ravage was getting ready to pounce, Rumble's optics gleaming in anticipation and amusement at Starscream's poor temper.

Soundwave spoke one word, laden with authority.

"Enough." All three, minicons and Seeker, froze. Soundwave calmly placed Rumble on the ground, stowing the cleaning cloth in his subspace.

"Soundwave will not follow Starscream. Starscream has nothing further to add."

The Seeker seethed at the calm words, wings moving up and down with his irritation.

"You refuse the Decepticon ways?"

"Negative. Soundwave will not follow Starscream as a leader," Soundwave said, watching the Seeker carefully. Starscream would try to beat the carrier into submission if he thought it would help, but Soundwave was not swayed by aggression - he'd seen Megatron try, only once.

Megatron had nearly been offlined in that fight. Megatron had been going to offline one of his minicons - the one that Barricade stole, that Starscream had assisted in stealing - and Soundwave had attacked without mercy. Ravage had had his claws in Megatron's helm, Rumble had shattered his knee, and Soundwave had ended the fight with a pulse cannon to Megatron's spark chamber.

This had not gone over well. The next twenty vorns had shown Soundwave the error of his ways - or it had supposed to have. Really, the only reason that he wasn't offlined by Megatron was because Megatron had known Soundwave to be too valuable to destroy. Well, for defending something that he would die for.

Starscream couldn't force Soundwave to follow him. Simple as that. He forced down his anger, nodding courteously to Soundwave and his evil little horde of minions.

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me," he said as a parting message.

"Soundwave will not change mind."

He glared at the carrier, before launching from the planet's surface. His thrusters glowed a bright red, and dust shot into the little metal shed Soundwave had created. Rumble was squawking beneath him, but the noise swiftly fell into silence as he transformed and soared into the sky.

Damn Soundwave! He'd show him, he'd show the arrogant carrier that he could be the best leader the Decepticons - no, the Transformers themselves - had ever seen!

Next step. He still needed supporters, and without Soundwave, that was made a little harder. The troops were used to hearing Soundwave's tones and files coming to them, they weren't going to be happy to hear him on the comm. lines.

He had the Seekers; that was nearly guaranteed.

The rest though, he needed the support of the rest. Soundwave was only one mech, the Decepticon army was made up of thousands of mechs.

Unfortunately, he knew that communication was vital in running an army.

Perhaps a trade. He'd need to communicate with Barricade.

There was something that Soundwave would do almost anything for. As Starscream spiralled into the atmosphere, red fire coating his wings, he plotted.

His communication arrays weren't powerful enough to reach Earth from Mars, especially not without TC or Warp. TC had the most advanced communication arrays of the three of them.

He sailed back toward the disgusting little planet filled with mud. He had a meeting with a police car.

Three days. I had been in this room, periodically assisted to the bathroom, fed coffee and fast food for three days. Whenever I demanded to know what was going on, or what was happening to me, I got the same answer. "Classified. You're being held until the President and Secretary of Defense decide what to do with you."

"Make me sign a ёбаный document; isn't it illegal to hold someone for three days?"

No answer.

Finally, as I was considering creative ways to bust out of the room, to hell with the consequences, a suited man came into the room, introducing himself as Simmons. He was strange looking, with twitchy eyes and curly hair. He spoke in fast, clipped tones. I wondered at some sort of mental deficiency - if he wasn't taking some sort of medications, he probably should be.

"Why am I still here?" I asked, fighting to keep a lid on my temper, after three days of silence and governmental bureaucracy. The man flicked a glance at me, slinging himself into the cheap plastic chairs I was sick of, and plunking a thick stack of papers on to the table. I stood by the door, arms crossed and a petulant glare on my face.

He ignored me, instead sorting out his papers into smaller piles. I continued glaring at his head.

"I don't have all day, sit down, Nurse Jackie," he grunted, smacking a pile of the paper on to the table repeatedly.

My eyes narrowed. "My name is Natasha Ivanova."

"You could say your name was Cleopatra, I'm not interested. Sit."

There was clearly not going to be a wonderful relationship here. I already disliked the man, and I barely knew his name.

He continued shuffling the papers into even more piles, ignoring me. My pride was kicking in, and I wasn't going to sit down until he asked me personally.

The man huffed out a breath. "Fine, stay uneducated, stay here in the lovely jail cell; see if I come back."

He started to stand up, and I processed his words. With a tightening of my jaw, I sat in the plastic chair, back straight and stiff. My pride wasn't worth being in this room any longer.

"Explain to me why I have been held here for three days," I said lowly, levelling my eyes at him.

From his briefcase, he pulled out a little tool with a meter and an annoying beeping sound. "Mmhm, definite contact."

He slapped a smaller sheaf of papers and swirled them to face me, the beeping tool disappearing into his suit.

"Is all the information recorded in these papers the truth?" he said swiftly, nearly slurring the words together.

A sigh blew out from my lips. "Yes, everything is the truth. I saw an alien robot, stole part of its backside and triaged a lot of people."

He started tapping a pen on the table, the noise echoing through the small, cramped room. "Question now, is what you're going to do when we let you loose. Any contacts in Iraq, Iran that you wanna tell me about?"

I gave him a flat look. "I'm a Canadian RN. You've checked my history, and I don't know anyone from Iraq or Iran."

"Or that's what you want us to think," he countered swiftly. I throttled my impulse to strangle him.

"I give insulin and morphine all day. So scary," I mocked.

He gave me a stink-eye and then swirled another small stack of papers in front of me. I instantly recognized my babushka.

"You recognize this woman?"

I raised one eyebrow. "Let me guess - Russian mafia babushka?"

"You're a real smartass, huh? Sure you wanna stick with your answer, no changes in your thinking?"

I rested my chin in my hand, wondering when this buffoon would be done. His attempt at being intimidating was pretty tame. I'd seen more intimidating cases in the ICU. Doctors could get very intense.

"No changes."

There was a hard smack from the door, and the tall guy stood, shooting a look at me, still sitting in the cheap blue plastic chair.

He stepped outside, and I considered checking the papers he'd left, but decided against it. He'd probably slap me with some sort of charge and throw me into a cell. No thanks.

I leaned back, tapping my fingers, when the man was back, with another sheaf of paper. He slipped it down in front of me.

"You checked this kid out, tell me what you did."

I glanced down at the boy I remembered from a few days ago - he'd been staggering along, blood streaking his fingers and stomach, brown hair wild and face gritty. Pulse and blood pressure had been high, pupils blown wide with adrenaline, respirations fast. No obvious trauma, I'd disregarded him.

"He had a simple name… Sean? S-S-something."

There had been a girl too - a couple inches shorter than the boy, still slightly taller than me. Although that wasn't hard.

She'd been very striking, as I recalled. Slightly Native looking, blue eyes and very skinny.

"Witwicky, Sam," the agent in the suit supplied in an irritated voice.

I nodded, taking in his face. "Yeah, I remember him." I supplied quickly, stating all the assessment data I could remember about the boy.

"I don't remember exact numbers, but he was very difficult to keep still, kept insisting he was fine. Weird burns on his hands, in patterns and whorls - kid didn't want me to look at his hands. Quick speech. Triaged him as low priority and let him go. He was gone right after that."

I blew out a breath. "Why?"

"You're not classified to know that," he said quickly.

"Fine," I growled. "So what do I have to tell you to let me out of here?"

"I'm asking the questions here, not you, Nurse Jackie," he spat out.

My temper was fraying. "Then ask the damn questions already."

"Or what?" he asked. His eyes glinted at me like a snake's.

My jaw was clenched hard enough to squeak when I ground my teeth. "Ask. Your. Questions."

"Temper, temper," he tsked, and I swore that I could feel my blood pressure spiking.

I sat in stony silence, fists clenched in front of me under the table as he shuffled his papers lazily, looking like he had all the time in the world. Like he hadn't made me wait for three days. Three days with no calls to my family or friend who I had travelled here with, and she definitely would know that I was missing.

He sighed as I waited, staring him down. I was taking deep breaths, trying to avoid ripping his head off as we stared at each other.

The tick of the clock was loud in my small interrogation room.

After an excruciating twenty minutes of waiting and watching, he finally spoke and a small surge of pride rose in me that I'd out waited him. Bastard.

He asked me more inane questions which I answered to the best of my ability and tried to keep my temper down. Agent Stiff-Sphincter definitely got some snarky answers though.

It ended up being that I could leave once I signed a stack of papers as tall as my ears. Each one had to be signed. I read each one carefully, not signing any, aware that Agent Stiff-Sphincter would try to screw me over in any way he could.

All of them revolved around what could happen to me if I broke confidentiality. One page detailed a possible job, and I cut my eyes up to Sphincter.

I lifted the sheet accusingly, shaking it slightly. "What's this?"

He sighed. "A piece of paper, lady, look, sign them and you can go home."

I tamped down my temper and spoke clearly. "This sheet says that if I agree, the US military can 'ask' me to come work for them on matters of 'NBE's.' And when I say 'ask' I mean 'tell.' What is an NBE? Why should I sign this?"

As I peered closer at the sheet, it also seemed that unless I signed this, the others were null and void as well.

"So for the next foreseeable future, or until I die, the US government owns my ass? Is that really what you're trying for here?" And, if I mentioned it to anyone, then I was liable to get put into an American prison.

Beady eyes glinted at me. "Sign the confidentiality ones."

"You can't tell me anything?"

"Not till you sign the papers, Jackie."

Another smoldering glare, but I did sign the papers.

He took a breath. "NBE's are the aliens." A pause. "We do own your ass. We've owned it from the moment you touched NBE eleven. Sector Seven owns you. Get used to it, Nurse Jackie."

I glared, poking a finger into the pile of papers. "Not until I sign these."

A smirk. "And you aren't leaving until you do sign them."

"муда́к," I hissed. "This can't be fair," I said angrily. "This is extortion!"

"Never be able to prove it in court, Jackie."

"I won't do it, I'm not signing those."

"There's a job offer too," he said.

I glared. "I already have a job, in Canada as a nurse. I quite like it there."

"Well, you might not have one if you don't sign… and if you do, then we've got a job for you."

I was doomed.

"What kind of job?" I asked suspiciously. I wouldn't put it past Sphincter to have me cleaning his bathroom for a living.

"Read the papers."

I glared at him but did as he asked. As I scanned the papers, it became clear that already the US government was… working with the aliens? Apparently the good NBE's - called Autobots (lame name) - were concerned that the Decepticons had scattered across the continent and they needed to hunt the remaining ones down. Then they would leave Earth.

I asked Sphincter how I fit into this.

Apparently, they wanted a medic and since it was an experimental group, they wanted to keep the human who had seen the aliens firmly in their grasp. I'd already been exposed to their radiation and they wanted me around to see if I started growing extra limbs.

Well, that was what I pulled from his convoluted speech. Somehow, that ended up being me. I would be kept safe - as safe as I could be - but the more I heard, the more I cursed my adventurous nature. It sounded interesting and it would be like nothing I had ever done before. Well, patching wounds, yes. But it seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The more I read and thought, the more I wanted to do it. It was only for a year. I'd considered travel nursing, going to the UK or Australia - I could just tell Amy that I'd been accepted. I didn't want to lie though.

And yet… I didn't really have a choice. Sphincter had made that perfectly clear. I was still pissed off that the military apparently owned me, and had spoken to my own country about this. If Canada had any reply to this blatant theft, I wouldn't hear of it. And since I had signed the damn confidentiality papers, I couldn't tell anyone about my dilemma. I was boxed in.

I asked Sphincter if he would be my boss. If so, there was no way in hell I'd do it. Until I had rotted in here for years and gone crazy and bloated with fast food. He shook his head.

I signed the bloody papers.

Two Weeks Later

Starscream leveled his null ray at the beaten black and white Decepticon. Barricade was looking worse for the wear; grit and dirt smeared his sides.

"Where's Soundwave's brat?"

"I don't know," Barricade rumbled. He looked like the Pit had come and claimed his spark.

Starscream shoved the ray gun closer to his spark, shoving it under the chest plating. Barricade shuddered, nervous energy tickling over his frame

"You lost him?" Starscream spat. "You stupid, incompetent grounder! How could you lose him!"

"No! He was destroyed, by humans!" Barricade cowered back, the null ray shoving painfully into his sternum, sending up errors to his processor that indicated a shot from here would be lethal.

Starscream had to school his wings from twitching. This fragging moron had lost his only chance at gaining Soundwave's compliance. His chance at leading the Decepticons was shrinking. Percentages were changing, and not in his favor.

"Where is he? And think carefully!" he added harshly, voice screeching into higher octaves with his disgust and rage. All his plans, all his dreams, and he was going to fail because one moron had lost a fragging minicon.

Primus.

"I lost him at the plant," Barricade finally rumbled. He sent over a set of coordinates, date and time to Starscream, who shoved his null ray harder into the cruiser's chest, cracking a fractured strut further with a screech of tortured metal. Barricade winced, leaning back further.

Starscream glared, then transformed into a jet and shot into the sky, thrusters glowing blue and white. He sailed to the location, making no efforts to hide himself. He'd seen what little the humans were capable of, and the Autobots had no method of stopping a jet.

Fools.

He alighted at the site, only breems later. The site was still destroyed; he could clearly see the craters in the concrete where that scout had smashed Barricade into the ground and caused his injuries.

No signs of Frenzy. Slag. It had been a long shot… His body swirled back into the air, thrusters transforming as he flipped into a jet and sailed into the darkening sky, thrusters carving a plume of grey smoke as he raced upward, gaining ground.

He needed that minicon.

Starscream's considerable processors whirled through his options as he flew. Could the runt have managed to escape? Or had those pesky humans in black vans calling themselves S7 have gotten him?

He hacked into the American government, amused at how simple it was. Inferior species playing with forces they did not comprehend.

From there it was simple to access S7. He scrolled through their files, searching, searching - got him.

They had him in one of their facilities. But since S7 had been disbanded, by order of the leader of this country, they'd just gone deeper underground. But he had the location.

Starscream landed on Mars, red flurries of dust rising into the atmosphere. Soundwave was still on the planet, and his purple minicon was waiting with his hands on his hips.

"You came back, ya moron. What'cha got?"

"You know exactly what I have," Starscream rumbled. He didn't like the little minicon at all. Sassy creature had pranked him too many times.

"Where is he?"

Starscream kept his processor blank. Soundwave could read processors - or at the least, the most superficial of thoughts - so he needed to make sure the telepath didn't rip the location from him. Luckily he had eons of experience, however it was still threatening.

"You'll know when I have the complete assurance of Soundwave that he's on my team."

Rumble's hands slipped from his hips, assuming a threatening stance. "You don't want to do that," he threatened. "Makes boss slagged right off when mechs mess with us."

"I need him," Starscream said bluntly.

Rumble smirked. "We know you need us, Screamy, but we come as a package."

"Take me to Soundwave," he hissed, patience spent.

Rumble's smirk widened. "Fine, fine, didn't know you were so impatient to get it on with the boss. Although I don't think you're his type."

"Frag you," Starscream spat.

"No, frag you-," Rumble replied, red optics nearly glowing with his anger. "-if even one optic on Frenzy is scratched."

Unbidden, the thought of Frenzy's mangled body washed through his processor. At least his spark was intact. If it hadn't, then he wouldn't have even tried.

Rumble whirled, stalking off. Starscream followed, distaste for the dirt sullying his feet. Thick washes of dust oozed off his every step.

Soundwave was waiting, crouched over an energon distillery clearly cobbled together from some sort of rigging. Starscream's scientist processors analyzed it swiftly, coming to the conclusion that it would be functional, if only producing miniscule quantities of energon.

Or perhaps he was using it for high grade. That seemed rather frivolous of Soundwave, from what Starscream had observed over the millennia of working beside him.

"Inefficient design," he commented loftily.

Soundwave didn't turn to look at him, tapping something into place with small pulses.

Starscream was irritated at this lack of respect.

"I have your minicon," he said sharply. "I need you on my side, Soundwave."

He'd try appealing to Soundwave's loyalty programming.

"Loyal only to Lord Megatron and minicons," Soundwave said, rather wryly. Starscream wasn't sure if he was answering his question or his thoughts; it made him uneasy.

"Do not read my thoughts, Soundwave!"

"Thoughts clear to all who see Starscream," Soundwave countered. "Telepathy mods not necessary."

Soundwave turned from his work slowly, the felinoid minicon appearing from behind Starscream and stalking over to the rudimentary energon distillery. Starscream startled, guns coming online and thrusters nearly shooting him into the atmosphere; he hadn't even seen the minicon hiding behind him. Impressive stealth mods.

Fragger. "One vorn," he said swiftly, trying to cover his surprise at Ravage appearing out of nowhere. For a paranoid Decepticon who had only lived as long as he had from being hyper-alert, being surprised was a really bad thing.

The dusty blue mech looked at Starscream. "You bargain for Frenzy's return, conditional on Soundwave working for Starscream for period one vorn?"

A tight nod from the Seeker. "That's right."

Rumble grumbled something and Ravage hissed.

Starscream kept his body blank, not showing anything. Processor focused on the here and now, not where he had stashed the offline body.

Soundwave tilted his head, much like Ravage would. He wondered about quantum bleed-over, the result of five bonded mechs acquiring each other's habits. He knew he did some things like TC used to.

"Frenzy, requires repairs. Starscream, give materials to Soundwave. Give Frenzy to Soundwave, Soundwave will comply with Starscream for period one vorn."

Elation raced through Starscream's spark. He had Soundwave.

Maybe his plans weren't so far-fetched after all.

AN: Already, we have some intrigue! :)

Russian

муда́к - (moo-dak) - asshole

ёбаный - (yo-ba-neey) - fucking

babushka - Babushka is a grandmother in Russian. And also a headscarf. :)