Ep0 - Nemesis - 'This Gets Ugly' - Closed

[Deleted]

((Megatron, Sniper and Soundwave))


Megatron did not wait for the doors to finish opening to throw Sniper through, his claws slick with energon from where he’d been dragging the smaller mech through the corridors of the Nemesis. He did, however, wait for the doors to slam and seal shut behind him before speaking, standing against the opposite wall with narrowed optics and his voice a snarl.

Soundwave slipped in behind his Lord, narrowly avoiding the doors as they shut. Though his own indignation ran deep, he kept back from the other two mechs, moving into an inconspicuous position in a shadowy corner next to the door to simply watch the proceedings. This was an offence against him as well, but Megatron held first rights to vengeance. The dark mech was perfectly capable of amusing himself on whatever scraps his master left behind for him.

He did as he always did--kept silent and watched.

“You *dare* spy on me on my own ship?”

He had screwed up, big time. This was the only thought that kept pulsing through his mind, setting a slowly building panic into his spark chamber. His nicely gleaming, green paint job had now suffered its first battle damage in years - even without a battle. There was none to be had, as Megatron towered over him in rank, build an strength. Sniper was tiny compared to him, especially now, when he was being humiliated on so many different levels.

The spy grunted as he was thrown on the floor. He tried to crawl up immediately, but only ended up balancing the weight of his upper body on his elbows. The red optics looked up towards the Decepticon Lord - towards the angry expression in his eyes which didn't promise much mercy to the spy. Sniper's cool was cracking, but he tried to keep it on his faceplate, still.

"My lord," he said eventually, climbing to his knees, servos still on the floor. "You are surrounded by scavengers and opportunists. Rest assured, I'm simply pointing them out for you," he was reaching for a proper excuse, but at this point, there was none. Knowing this, he began to plan his escape, before Megatron could actually kill him. He slowly gathered his feet against the floor. And judging by the leader's fierce expression, the spy would have to be very fast.

Megatron barked a laugh at that, coming like a blast into the room as his optics flashed in charged, malicious delight. “You liken yourself to a particularly poor parasite as a tactic to beseech my mercy? You’re more pathetic than I thought. I can only congratulate you for surviving this long.”

Sniper lunged to avoid his hand a fraction of a second too late, his claw-like thumb catching across the smaller mech’s midsection and tearing at the mesh. A trivial wound - too shallow to be left. Closing his hand around the thin armour plate of Sniper’s hip, Megatron lifted him bodily and pressed him into the wall. His other hand punched into the already weeping abdominal plating in a pointed fist, tearing through to his protoform with ease. Growling against the resounding shout, Megatron opened his hand to gore the cavity wider and snapped his hand back and out.

Dropping the suddenly-limp body, Megatron took a step back to watch the pool of energon and coolant spread. His slicked thumb played across his claw tips, now dripping purple and flecked with shreds of protoform and armour shards. “You were not watching my datastreams, my consoles - you were watching your Lord. Why?”

Sniper grunted as he was forced against a wall, his back plating scratching against the dead metal. And for a moment, his red optics were forced to meet with Megatron's, whose gaze sung a series of malicious tunes. He felt a scratch being placed in his midsection, his faceplate giving a half panicked grimace, before, in a single moment, his expression was wiped clean. Pain. The spy's mouth cracked open, the red of his optics widening in shock. He felt his whole system around Megatron's grip tensing up, twitching, as the larger mech twisted his claws away from his mid section, leaving a nasty hole behind.

’Oh Primus, and in the name of everything that was holy.’ Sniper collapsed back on to floor the very second the Decepticon leader let go of him. The spy's shivering claws snapped to the open wound, as though it was going to help. His optics stared right across the floor, wearing an expression of shock, his whole body curling around the wound. It was beginning to soak the floor with weakly glowing purple.

"M-my lord-!" shot out of his vocalizer. The usually calm and collected voice wore shades of panic, as he tried to crawl onto his knees. "I simply-," he tried to hold the wound tighter. "-your well-being has been discussed on board the ship a lot of lately. And I-," Sniper grunted and hissed, trying to dismiss all the error messages that kept occurring in herds. "-I was trying to ... put the rumors to rest." Not entirely untrue. But still, not the truth - not by a long shot.

“Touching,” Megatron sneered, optics flashing even as they narrowed. He gripped both of Sniper’s doorwings in one fist to suspend him again, unaffected by the pained shout that came from the suddenly-straightened body. Slamming the slender mech back against the bulkhead, harder than before, he took a fistful of cabling and neural wires from the tattered edge of the grotesque wound and simply pulled them out. “But as you can see, any rumours about my health have been greatly exaggerated.”

The claws of Sniper's free hand attempted to dig into the floor panels as he felt a strong grip dragging his door panels. Yet, it only resulted in a broken whine and a sad screech of metal. The quick movement made the wound spew out more energon, staining the polished lime green with weakly glowing purple. He bit his dentals together when his tiny form was forced back between the Decepticon lord and the wall, attempting to keep the pained cries hidden from Megatron's hearing sensors. However, when the bigger mech started ripping his neural wires apart, one horrifying shriek erupted from his speakers, trailed by twitching of his limbs and a series of low, pathetic groans.

Sniper had seen his share of battles in this war, as he was not exactly a youngling anymore, but never had he been subject to such excruciating pain before. He cringed, his pain receptors working overcapacity. And behind all the warnings and errors his system kept spewing at him, the spy begun to realize that these moments could possibly be the last ones he would ever see. This thought set a panicked flare into his spark chamber, and even a hint of despair would show in the red of his optics, which weren't focused on Megatron at the moment.

But the glimpse was soon hidden, as the spy frowned, his dentals still bit together - partly out of pain, partly out of spite. If these were to be his last moments, which was a likely scenario, he wouldn't take all his secrets with him. Maybe the most important ones, but not the ones he had always wished to speak. He coughed weakly, a stream of energon dripping to his chin. The red optics were only narrow slits, but their expression carried all the spite in the world. Groveling was useless now.

"For now … at least," he struggled to say, his true feelings and intentions finally peeking from between the lies. "But I am not the only one who has lost belief in your cause," Sniper grunted, his claws twitching. "You should know that I … did not work alone. Your troops are filled with more treachery than you can even begin to understand."

Megatron pushed the mech higher up the wall, dragging his back and doorwings up the metal hard enough to scrape away the mesh. Fixing him there with one hand, the other scraped hard down Sniper’s body to his right thigh and then lower to engulf his knee joint. The actual act of pressing the claw of his forefinger into the gaps in the back of that joint was slow, savouring the neural lines and stabilising struts and pressure sensors, and energon feeds and everything else that felt and hurt even before had even reached the skeletal protoform in the middle.

“If at least a fraction of my crew wasn’t treacherous, then they’d be Autobots, and I’d have no use for them on my ship,” he replied, voice strong and even as he began twisting his hand, speaking over the pained sounds of Sniper’s knee joint being truly and utterly mangled. “I am the Commander of the Decepticons because of my former treachery towards those too weak to be Lord themselves, and I admire initiative over cowish following. Some follow because they fear me, enough to die for me as readily as those who truly embrace me as their Lord and Master. You, in idiotic arrogance and short-sightedness, do neither.”

No, on second thought, this might have been the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. The one that kept tearing through his knee, combined with the one that kept screaming in his mid section. Sniper’s faceplate twitched into a pained grimace, turning away from the Decepticon leader. He let loose a low hiss, and his claws froze into a tense hooks, their subtle twitching conducted by the painful notes that Megatron sang to his body.

"It seems that… I do not, doesn’t it?” he whined through his dentals. There was something very grim in the way these words were spoken. “But while I … I am obviously not strong enough to push the knife into your back…it won't take long for someone else to do that in my place," the spy's thought circled around Starscream for a moment. That useless glitch - he hadn't kept his end of the bargain. Sniper's optics snapped their gaze back to Megatron’s - and his mouth stretched into a little, malicious smile. It was only a phantom, but it was still there. "Maybe that is a thought you should sleep on." Emphasis - just in the right place to let the Decepticon lord know what he knew. Of course, there was lots more where that had come from, but at the moment, out of all the things Sniper had found out about Megatron’s state and upcoming ambush, for instance, this seemed like the one thing that could get through to Megatron.

A cold lance through his spark froze Megatron momentarily, his optics widening with sheer and numbing shock at not only the mech’s knowledge, but with sheer incredulity at Sniper’s nerve in saying it. To him.

The pause was brief before a thunderous sound snarled from his chest and vocaliser equally, optics flashing a hellish glow and teeth baring. Megatron threw the mech clear across the brig into the far corner and bore down on him intent to put his fist straight through his spark in a killing blow.

There it was, the reaction he had longed for: the moment when Megatron froze into place, shock sucking all the anger out of his optics. And during that moment, Sniper felt a tiny bit of amusement - which was gone for good, once he was thrown on the floor again. His green armor plating created a messy melody of metallic noises when it collided with the floor panels. The sudden movement sent a violent wave of pain through the slender body. A puddle of energon splashed onto the floor, and the spy let out the most agonizing shriek, his hand rushing to the wound, as though it was going to do him any good at this point. His body twisted uncontrollably, hisses and groans escaping it. The red optics remained closed for a while, his whole faceplate twisted into the expression of agony, before they snapped open again, their panicked gaze darting up to Megatron. The mech's shadow grew big and dark, hovering over the tiny spybot.

Sniper tried to pick his wrecked form up from the floor, but the second he put his weight on his bad knee, the circuits popped and the whole knee joint gave in. He fell back on his side, the red of his optics widening. He gasped, letting out a broken groan before he begun to pull his body away from the Decepticon Lord. His spark pulsed with fear as he realized Megatron was about to deliver the finishing blow.

And the only thing Sniper could do was to crawl away in fear. Eventually, his back stood against the wall, optics staring up to the growling shadow that had cornered him. And then came the death strike. Sniper let out an uncontrolled little whine and hurled his body to one more desperate attempt to dodge the blow.

Energon splattered to the floor.

But it was not Sniper’s.

Megatron had drawn his fist back so far, aiming at a point in the wall with intent to go straight through the dying mech’s body, that it had given Sniper precious milliseconds to get out of the way. His fist sank up to the elbow in screaming metal, which in itself didn’t hurt beyond the dull impact against his hand. When Sniper began to drag himself away, however, he wrenched his arm back mindlessly and felt the jagged shards of the caved bulkhead tear into him. His arm should have stayed stuck; blind rage put the pain outside of his mental sphere, however, and he saw more than felt his arm shredding as it came out in one hard jerk.

Sniper refused to stay still now that he had gotten himself moving again. So, coughing up little puddles of energon, he crawled away from Megatron as fast as he could. His movement was trailed by silent whining, but it was all over-powered by the Decepticon Lord's loud rampage. And when Sniper threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, he saw how the bigger mech's arm armor came apart.

Sniper had seen Megatron angry a number of times, but this time was different. He had never witnessed such blind rage before - not on the Nemesis anyway. And maybe in some other circumstance, he would have been proud and amused about the fact that he had managed to upset the Decepticon Master so. But at the moment, the only thought throbbing in his processor was the one that wanted to stay alive. Even if, in the back of his mind, the spy knew that his time was growing very short and dim. But still, he crawled forward, having no particular heading, his dead leg trailing the rest of his body. He just needed to get away.

With energon practically pouring out of his shredded arm, Megatron stilled by the wall and considered Sniper’s pitiful efforts out of the corner of his optic. If he hadn’t just put his hand through the bulkhead and done himself significant damage, he’d have continued to beat the small mech to gun-metal grey. As it was, however, he clenched his dripping hand into a fist and snarled aloud to the other mech in the room.

“Soundwave, see to it that this treacherous piece of scrap’s mind is reduced to the same state as his body. Then get his remains off my ship.”

With that, Megatron came about to walk across Sniper’s dragging path, spilled energon pulling at his pedes in thick ropes. He keyed open the door, his frame practically smoking, and locked it behind him without a backwards glance.

[Deleted]

The energon pulsed in Soundwave’s lines as he watched the silver tyrant stalk from the room. For only a brief moment he hesitated--the mechblood running from his master’s arm signaled a very serious wound--but his lord had given him an order. Soundwave turned his focus completely to the other bleeding body still left in the room. His Master didn’t need ~that~ much supervision. He knew the seriousness of his injury or he wouldn’t have left the room. The master spy felt he could safely direct his attention elsewhere for the moment. He steped from his corner towards Sniper.

The twitching, bleeding, half-broken body that was trying so desperately to get away had his metaphorical hackles rising. Something old stirred in Soundwave at the sight. It was rare for him to feel so clearly but then this was a special case. The dark mech maneuvered himself in front of the injured bot, blocking his pitiful attempt at escape.

Soundwave stared down at him for a long moment. This mech had managed to offend him personally, something fairly difficult to do. It wasn’t so much the fact that Sniper had snooped on his master, or that he’d been planning some sort of betrayal--though that was of concern--what was really eating into Soundwave’s emotional filters was the fact that the wretched armature had mucked in ~his systems and meddled with his security! In front of him! On ~his ship! For all intents and purposes he’d mocked Soundwave’s ability and made his work look clumsy and inadequate! The fact that the filthy glitch had offended his lord simply added to the insult.

Soundwave took it very, very personally.

He crouched down and leaned forward, one foot purposefully coming down on the green hand that still scrabbled desperately forward, halting the frantic attempts to get away. Soundwave viewed Megatron’s handy work with critical optics. That was a constant point of tension between his master an him--Megatron wasn’t good with subtly. If something offended him, he went after it tooth and claw. Soundwave thought it over theatrical. Sometimes it was the invisible injuries that cause the most damage. Megatron might not think so, or liked the way he did it, but yes, Soundwave knew how to make people hurt.

He reached out a hand, cupping Snipers face. Pettiness wasn’t a trait of Soundwave and he didn’t normally hold grudges....but this infraction was very personal....it only fitted that the punishment would be equally so.

The dark mech leaned in close, unfurling his EM field to a nearly suffocating degree, thickly enfolding the green mech in his presence. One long talon scratched along the mech’s cheek seam, just under his eye.

“....parasite....fear me......” Echoed Megatron’s voice, tinted with the melodic harmony that always colored Soundwave’s recordings.

[sniper]

Energon kept dripping onto Sniper's chin while his optics glared upwards through a veil of agony. Even if he should maybe have been begging for his life at the moment, Sniper still found his hatred something worth clinging to. <i>The jealousy, the envy.</i>

"Get your filthy claws off me," he hissed weakly, his words trailed by a pathetic, pained grunt. Sniper was in no position to speak in this manner.

[Deleted]

The words fell flat; simply the desperate failings of a dying creature. The mech was obviously afraid, Soundwave could see the fear flickering in the dying mech’s optics. It wasn’t enough for Soundwave. The pathetic mech didn’t have long to live, but Soundwave was determined to make his last living moments the worst of his existence. He wanted to see those fearful flickers turn into fully formed shadows of demons and ghosts.

The mech was hardly more than a youngling, honestly, his armor smooth and untouched except for the new and terrible damage his Master had just inflicted. Sniper had yet to experience any of the true terrors of war. Had never heard the screams of the dying, the heavy deafening sound of artillery fire, the burning draining feel of too many superficial wounds, pain from enemy hands, the confusion and desperation.

But that could change.

Soundawave trailed his claws across the green spy’s face, savoring the looks of hate and disgust it earned him, before his grip finally locking around the mech’s thin neck. A deceptively gentle squeeze, then Soundwave’s grip firmed. Removing his foot from the pinned hand, he gripped the mech’s forearm and roughly manhandling him onto his back. Both Soundwave and Sniper were about the same weight, and, on an even playing field, a fight between them might have been evenly matched. As it was, most of Sniper’s strength was smeared in puddles across the floor, and Soundwave had millenniums more experience on his side.

Soundwave pulsed his EM field strongly, crushing down on Sniper with a claustrophobic pulse, using it to disorient and confuse the mech. A click and cables unfurled, each one snapping forward to help him pin the mech to the brig floor, coiling around abdomen and limbs.

Forcing Sniper’s face to one side, Soundwave dug his claws into the panel protecting the medical port on the back of the mech’s neck. The plating buckled easily enough and the spymaster extended a thin data cable from his wrist to link with the port, holding the mech’s head down with one arm. The tendrils restraining the younger mech’s body tightened, ends clamping down on the mech, some taking time to roughly connect to data ports along the him frame, other’s simply digging into the green metal skin until it found an internal neural line to bite into.

[sniper]

The spy master's subtle, well composed movements could be deceiving. Sniper knew this for a fact after decades of observing how Soundwave worked. And while the green mech lay there, surrounded by a weakly glowing puddle of energon, he knew that the said movements would soon evolve into something of a far more malicious nature. The spite in his optics wouldn't melt away, even if fear rapidly begun to overpower it - especially, when Sniper realized what was about to happen to him.

With the remaining bits of his strength, he tried to struggle when he was forced on his back. But he only managed to hurt himself, shards of his broken protoform digging into his open wound. He hissed, his body cringing, but he could not fight back in this state. His claws gnawed nasty scratches into the floor panels as he tried to break free - in vain. The wide, crimson red orbs of his optics burned in the dim lighting, their angry and panicked stare drilling into the ominous visor of Soundwave's.

"No-,” Sniper hissed, his energon tarnished dental plates bit together. “I won't let you-," But his words came to a halt when Soundwave forced his face to turn. Energon dripped to the floor. And fear begun to quicken the pulse of Sniper's spark. It felt as though the chamber in his chest would have suddenly closed tightly around the little thing and begun to choke it - much Soundwave was doing to the rest of him at the moment. Once more desperately struggle occurred. He was trying to move his feet, get them to kick the mech that was towering over him, but the broken knee joint had killed his chances.

[Deleted]

The struggling was ignored. Soundwave pressed into the link, bulldozing past handshaking protocols and standard uplink security. He only pulled back when he slammed into Sniper’s personal firewall. The security wasn’t bad, strong in all the places it should be, armature flaws non-existent. It showed skill, he could give Sniper that much. But it wasn’t enough to keep out Soundwave.

The dark mech didn’t hesitate, instantly bombarding Sniper’s defenses, sifting though perimeter code searching for weakness, sending out his best false programs, writing more on the spot and pulsing in those as well. An all out siege against Sniper’s systems.

Soundwave could feel the mech under him fighting back, counter hacking valiantly, attempting to strengthen his firewalls, chasing and terminating the spymaster’s invading programs, tying up loose code as Soundwave scrabbled for it. Soundwave pressed harder, expanding his areas of attack. He pulsed between attack styles, tirelessly flipping from one weak spot to the next adding more and more pressure to the assault as he went. He knew if he kept his attacks fast and varied enough, the green mech would eventually exhaust or simply be unable to keep up.

It didn’t take to very long. The slip up was small and might have been unperceivable to someone not of Soundwave’s skill level, but he did see it and he did take advantage of it, slipping past Sniper’s securities enough to deactivate the whole system from the inside.

Enemy system laid bare, Soundwave pushed himself into Sniper’s CPU, diving deep and fast into his mind, tearing though thoughts and memories and system codes. He flipped though and scattered everything he touched: memories, thoughts, feelings. Things buried deep he dredged up, scattered apart associations, then blasted through to the next when he finished shredding the first. He paused only on a few memories as he moved, changing direction and depth as he did so, as if looking for something specific.

[sniper]

A desperate cry emerged from Sniper vocalizer as Soundwave ripped his way into the smaller spy's system. He tried to struggle, both inside and out, sending his defensive protocols to work, and cringing in the firm grip of Soundwave's tentacles - only causing their grip to grow tighter. This was far from being Sniper's first time in virtual combat. But it was his first time sparring with Soundwave - while trying to dismiss all the the physical pain from distracting his desperate attempts to keep him out. But once he realized that his defenses, no matter how firm and well constructed, were slowly coming down, Sniper dispatched a series of virus programs into the system that was breaking into his.

The green mech's crimson colored optics burned as two dying flames. This was humiliating in so many different ways. He hissed in both anger and fright, his head attempting to turn beneath the spy master's grip - with no significant results. He registered Soundwave's attempts to break into his memory files, which got an even more violent struggle to occur. No! He would not let Soundwave get his oily claws on them. Energon kept spewing out of Sniper's broken protoform, and every minute left him feeling a bit more disoriented and sluggish. Yet, he still fought to keep his consciousness and concentration. There were things about his past he would not let the spy master have. Nor would he, out of mere spite and hatred, let him into the files he had stolen from Soundwave’s network.

Drawing the last resources he had left, Sniper settled one of his toughest security scripts around those very files - along with the ones in his memories. He would not be able to protect everything, this much was clear to him now, but he was determined to keep Soundwave from the bits the spy master most desired. The feeble form beneath Soundwave's purple tinted shadow grunted and whined - pathetic little thing.

[Deleted]

Soundwave felt Sniper’s shifting around in his mind, the protective codes in one area strengthening. The spymaster only took a moment to ping the systems he currently rifled though, assuring himself that whatever Sniper was attempting to hide wasn’t a trap, before fragmenting the memory currently in his grasp and daring to the mental barricade to began clawing at the barriers. He didn’t know what it was the mech wanted to protect from him but if it was important enough to try to hide from him, it was important enough to split open and examine.

The barrier was only half built and still flimsy by the time Soundwave broke though. The first thing he noticed was a bulk of data recognizable to him by original data signature on it. His own signature! The missing information from the Tangent!!

A flair of fury flashed though him despite his muted emotions. That was his! HIS! He ripped it from Sniper’s mind, forgoing the usual elegance he used, a bit of the mech’s mind ripping out with it.

Then he noticed the other bit that had been hidden behind the mental wall. A memory. One spy obviously didn’t want him to see. Soundwave’s struck out malevolently, viciously, spreading the memory open with much more force than needed, raking into the younger spy’s mind mercilessly before plunging inside, pulling the green mech’s psyche spitefully inside with him.

Show me. What are you hiding from me?

[sniper]

Despite Sniper's severe condition, and Soundwave balancing on his wounded form, binding him into a dozen tentacles, he was able to put up struggle. Granted, it cost him even more of the precious energon that was in puddles around the room, but this ... he couldn't let Soundwave have. Not this memory. It was all too painful, even if he only thought of it for very brief moment, while he tried to push Soundwave away from it. The of his dying team mates, the very ones he had sold out, being pulled apart by the Decepticon troopers while he had watched - and done nothing. And even if Sniper operated on pure greed at times, this was something that he had kept to himself, isolating the regret from his processor for the longest of times.

"You sold us out," she shouted. "For a few chips of data."

The troopers had surrounded the small group of three very fast, overpowering them in numbers, but not in skill. Sniper's optics widened, when they met with Blitzwarp's. He had not expected the ‘Protoform’ to follow him - not to here. And what was even more unexpected, was the sheer lust for vengeance in the femme's expression. Sniper had always considered Blitzwarp to be the most righteous one of the group. She tried to charge through the line of troopers. It all happened so fast. Yet, for a moment, when she charged forward, her optics screaming hatred towards the spy standing further away in the corridors, everything was incredibly slow. During that very moment, Sniper could only stand and watch, how a single, well placed shot ripped through her armor, drilling right through her chest. She fell back, her expression frozen to a silent scream, her optics still burning as two teal colored drops.

Sniper's mouth cracked open, his claws tensing up by his sides. It was as though he had almost rushed to her help. But in the end, he didn’t move. Not even even the troopers pulled her screaming mesh apart. Sniper could even see the blue flare of her spark going out before the other two, Shade and Trailracer, went down too. They put out a fight, but it was only a matter of time. The spy, standing in a safe distance, couldn't do anything for them - not even when they called for him, begging him to come to their aid. But he never did - not even when they fell to the ground, and the troopers begun to dissect them into long, uneven pieces of scrap. The screams. Sniper took a few steps back into the shadows, the red light of his optics burning through them as two horrified orbs. His claws twitched, but he couldn't bring himself to leave - as though it would have eased the pains of his fallen comrades somehow.

It wasn't until the scene finally quieted down, leaving behind only the popping sounds of dying circuits and the smell of melted metal, that Sniper finally stepped into the range of help. Yet, he only walked through the puddles of spilled energon, breaking the line of the Decepticon troopers. He made his way to the centre of the scene, as though he would have wanted to make sure it was all real - that they were all dead. Then, a sudden grab from his foot. The spy glanced down, startled, and his shocked gaze was greeted by two dying optics that belonged to Blitzwarp. "Megatron's lapdog," she would spit with the last remaining flicker of her her snuffed spark, before a trooper fired a shot through her faceplate.

"No-," he gasped, red optics widening and claws moving against the tarnished floor panels in panicked patterns. He tried to cry out - for something, for someone - but only a broken whine emerged from his weary vocalizer. His struggling grew more and more restless, as his protective software came apart around the memory, exposing the horror twisted faces of his former team mates.

Utter desperation begun to drape Sniper's pulsing spark. He tried to get his healthier leg moving. Something needed to be done. Anything. With energon spilling to the floor as a dimly glowing, purple stream, Sniper tried to deliver a kick to Soundwave's mesh - anywhere was good, even if it wouldn't do him any good at this point.

[Deleted]

Soundwave clicked to himself, pleased. So the spy wasn’t as clean handed as he seemed, not that he expected the slagger to be. The memory was exactly what Soundwave was looking for. He grunted in surprise from the kick to his midsection, but the move was much too weak to have much other effect on the specialist. He mearly shifted his positioning, pinning Sniper’s one functioning leg with one of his own.

Once he was sure the mech wouldn’t be able to move physically again, he set out defiling his captive mind. He locked onto the memory and slit it open, spilled its contents and spread them messily throughout the mind held open, infecting every corner with its contents. Everywhere Sniper looked would be the bloody faces of his friends. Every memory he tried to recall would echo with their screams and cries of betrayal. Pain, suffering, screaming: Everywhere. Soundwave toyed with Sniper's emotive coding, amplifying the emotions the memory stirred, splattering them thick across every internal surface: Fear, hopelessness, guilt, regret. Acidic, gnawing, corrosive, tainting everything they touched. Death, everywhere death, inescapable and it was all Sniper's fault!

Soundwave took a metaphorical step back to observe the chaos he’d caused. And chaos it was. A burbling, writhing mass of inner pain, boiling and putrefying into a noxious, consuming darkness.

A masterpiece.

Soundwave felt quite accomplished and very pleased with himself. A soft purring rumble echoed from his throat, stirred by his contentment.

He as he watched the turmoil, savoring it like a fine grade of energon, Megatron’s orders to dispose of the mech came to mind. He momentarily considered ripping open the Mech’s abdomen to crush his spark, but dismissed the thought quickly. It’d be much more entertaining to watch the mech’s spark poison it’s self from the inside out, watch it crush its self under the weight of its own pain and suffering.

[sniper]

In the next moment, Sniper's functioning leg was pinned down again.

And finally, he screamed. The red of his optics widened, forming a set of crimson voids, filled with the horrified shrieks that didn't fit through his vocalizer. Soundwave ripped his encrypted memory files open, and stripping him of all the barriers he had had protecting him from the things he had done. And suddenly, his head was full of dying comrades, their agonized expressions, their last breaths - and Blitzwarp's final words. The dying mech in Soundwave's shadow cringed and and shook uncontrollably. The Spy master had done just what Sniper had sworn he would not let anyone do to himself - broken and exposed him.

And even if Sniper tried to dismiss these thoughts, he found himself held captive by them. His couldn't operate anything, which added to his horror. Everything was a mess of death, fear, guilt and regret - all those feelings he had denied back in the day. And now, they returned with a vengeance. He was immobilised and broken, his horrible memories shadowed by Soundwave, who had smeared his signature all over them. They were darker, yet Sniper couldn't tell which shadow were his own and which ones had been planted.

[Deleted]

Soundwave basked in Sniper’s screams, feeling the mech’s external cacophony mix with his internal swirl of torment. Unfortunately, his revelry ended with a single short comm from his master’s cassette.

'Um, Soundwave, Lord Megatron is... You need to come right now!'

He paused, glancing down at the cowed mech below him, then sent a short acknowledgement to Fairwinds in return. He roughly pulled his connections from the green mech and stood, not bothering to watch the mech at his fee curl into a broken ball. His fun was over, perhaps cut short, but it did not perturb the comms mech--he had responsibilities he had to attend to that could not be put on hold for his own enjoyments. But he did still have a bit of garbage to attend to first.

One claw flashed out and locked around one of Sniper’s ankles and Soundwave begain to drag the mech from the room and down the hall, a long, wide smear of mechblood trailing their wake. Eradicaons stepped quickly from his path, a few stopping to stare but Soundwave ignored them all until he reached the control room. A short ping to the mech manning the groundbridge controls had the bridge open and Soundwave stalking through. He hadn’t answered the Eradicons quarry for coordinates, and the the mech had wisely refrained from asking again, simply opening the bridge to the last entered location.

Soundwave didn’t take much time to determine where they exited, only noting that it appeared to be in the middle of the desert somewhere before he swung his arm out and released the green mech. He only staying long enough to watch him sniper hit the ground and slide a few feet in a limp tumble before turning heel and passing back through the ground bridge.

It closed behind him with a deadly since of finality.

<end>