Earth; September 1985

     One by one the others turned to follow their leader.  Skywarp first, then
Ravage, Bombshell --
     "Don't leave me!" Starscream cried out, struggling to lift his head.  "You
can't--*!"  A fit of coughing cut off his words.  He spit up the black fuel
that had seeped into his oxygen filters from punctured internal fuel tanks, and
fought for breath.
     Laserbeak and Buzzsaw took to the air, unhurriedly following the others.
Neither of them looked in Starscream's direction.
     "No!" he called plaintively.  "You can't leave me -- I'm far too valuable
a warrior to be left...to die...."
     Rumble and Frenzy shrugged and turned away.
     "Please, I don't want to die!" he wailed.  "Not here, not like this!"
Desperately he tried to claw his way forward along the ground.  Fuel pooled on
the floor all around him, visibly seeping from his wounds.  "Someone help
me...."
     As one, Reflector's three components started for the exit.
     "Thundercracker, Soundwave," he sobbed, appealing to the only two
Decepticons who might be persuaded to some sympathy.  "Please, I want to
live...."  His words dissolved into a weak spasm of coughing that shook his
whole body.
     Soundwave and Thundercracker had already turned away.  Thunder glanced
uncertainly at Soundwave, slowing his steps.  Soundwave could read the question
in his eyes:  how angry would Megatron be if they brought Starscream back to
base?
     Soundwave looked back at the battered Decepticon, barely recognizable as a
jet anymore.  In spite of himself -- despite his long-standing friendship with
Megatron and his loathing for what Starscream had done, Soundwave couldn't help
but feel a little sorry for him.  He was in excruciating pain, and he would
leak to death very soon unless something was done.
     Soundwave exchanged a look with Thundercracker.  "Megatron did let him
live," Soundwave pointed out.
     That was all the incentive Thunder needed.  He had his differences with
Starscream as well, but in his core he hated to see a fellow Decepticon in such
anguish.  He went to Starscream and carefully started to lift him off the
floor.  Soundwave hung back for another moment of indecision, then stepped
forward to help.

                              * * *

     The undersea headquarters boasted a far more extensive repair bay than the
dry-land base, and it was here that Soundwave started reassembling all the
shattered bits and pieces of Starscream's mechanisms.  The damage was even more
extensive that it had appeared from the outside.  Manufacture of necessary
spare parts, and especially of new outer body panels, would stretch itself over
the next several days.  For the moment, Soundwave had stopped the leaking, and
was slowly reconnecting the most critical internal wiring.  It was going to be
a long night.
     Starscream lay unconscious on the operating table as Soundwave worked with
methodical care.  He had the ability to focus on his work to the point where he
became totally absorbed in the details -- in all the delicate little
procedures, the steady succession from one step to the next, the successful
completion of each goal.  He could almost forget who it was that he was working
on, and why he was in this condition to begin with.  Almost.  With a skill born
of long practice, his hands activated the various repair tools practically on
their own, leaving his mind free to wander...

[begin flashback]

     By the time evening fell, Nightbird had been at the land base for several
hours.  Neither a prisoner nor a member of the team with responsibilities, she
could have taken the time to explore, to take in the layout of the place --
even to choose one of the unoccupied private rooms that suited her.  Instead
she had sat with Megatron and Soundwave at the computer all afternoon.
Megatron all but ignored her once he really focused in on his work, and even
Soundwave found it easy to forget her presence from time to time.  She was so
unobtrusive, so totally silent.  Yet there was nothing timid or uncertain about
her; she stayed in Megatron's presence not because she felt safe there, but
because there was something about his proximity that she seemed to find
fascinating.  Glancing at her from time to time, Soundwave could see an aura of
calm self-assurance about her - a sense of security in her own existence, a
core of inner tranquility.  From that inner center of balance she looked
outward with an insatiable curiosity, as though trying to take in as much
information as possible to make up for her extreme youth.  She had, after all,
only just been created.  But she had none of the childlike aspects that a
Transformer private creation would have at that age - no, she seemed more like
a factory product, an "instant adult," who had been given a far more
sophisticated personality by the creation factory machinery than possible with
the machinery which would normally be available to a private individual on
Cybertron.  Soundwave still could not imagine how her human creator had
accomplished such a feat, without access to creation factory machinery.
However it had been done, and in terms of personality, she was an adult female.
But *knowledge* was what she lacked, and her observant intelligence was trying
hard to compensate.
     Megatron did not seem to notice her again until, for the fifth time, his
attempt to infiltrate Teletran One's auxiliary defense programs was blocked by
a sophisticated protection system.  In rising frustration he brought his fist
down on the computer console and glared accusingly at the screen.  "Piece of
computerized trash!" he snarled.
     "It *is* late," Soundwave suggested.
     "What?"  He turned to look at Soundwave as though only now remembering his
presence.  "Oh - yes, right, you can go."  He waved Soundwave away, somewhat
distracted.  "And--" he glanced at Nightbird, "show Nightbird to a room.  See
that she has everything she needs."
     "I meant, perhaps you should give it a rest for the night," Soundwave
specified.
     "Look, Soundwave," Megatron snapped, "I'm not going to become ruler of
Cybertron by *resting*!"
     "You will not accomplish that goal by driving yourself to exhaustion
either," Soundwave pointed out.
     Megatron's eyes flashed a warning - he didn't want to hear it.
     Soundwave sighed.  They had had this conversation far too many times, and
it always ended the same way.  He motioned to Nightbird to follow him, as
Megatron turned back toward the computer for another electronic assault.
     He could barely hear her footsteps as she followed him through the dark,
narrow corridors of the base.  Other Transformers, with less sensitive hearing,
would not have heard her at all.  He decided on one of the larger spare rooms
and stopped at its door.  Touching the outer control panel at its side, he
plugged into the circuitry through a linkage key that slid out from the tip of
his finger.  With a swift series of electronic impulses, he prepared the
locking mechanism to receive a new entrance code.
     "Put your hand up against this metal panel," he directed Nightbird.  She
did so, and the circuitry scanned her bioelectric emissions, sealing the
pattern into its memory.  "Now all you have to do is will it to open," he
explained.
     She tilted her head and stared at the door in motionless concentration.
After a moment, the door slid back into the wall.
     "It gets easier with practice," Soundwave assured her.  He led her into
the darkened room and dialed up the lights.  Patiently he showed her how to
raise and lower the illumination; how to activate the recharge bed and how to
adjust the temperature of the invisible energy-beams that would wash over her
while she was dormant; how to turn the transparent window-polymer opaque if she
should wish to block out the bright light of the moon that was visible as a
waning quarter outside the base.  There was no energon dispenser in the room,
so he stepped out briefly and returned with a tray of small cubes, which were
more satisfying than the otherwise adequate recharge rays.  She picked one
up, tentatively at first, and tried it.  Apparently she liked the taste, for
she immediately emptied two more.  Soundwave realized that she hadn't re-fueled
since she'd been brought here early that morning, and who knew how much fuel
she'd been given prior to that by her human creators.
     Soundwave was reminded that Megatron had not re-fueled either, since that
morning - since before the attack on the conference center, the battle with the
Autobots, the flight home, and all the long hours at the computer.  Soundwave
was forever asking him to take better care of himself, but the Decepticon
leader resented the implication; he had "more important things to think about,"
and "no time for such trivialities."
     Well, perhaps having Nightbird here would have some positive effect,
Soundwave thought as he regarded her.  He had not missed the spark of interest
in Megatron's eyes when she'd had her little spat with Starscream that
morning - how he'd followed her effortless and amazingly swift movements when
she went on the attack...and she *was* beautiful, in an intriguingly alien
fashion.
     Soundwave reached out mentally and lightly touched her mind, trying to get
reading on her feelings about being here.  Normally he would not invade the
privacy of another's thoughts, unless he was so ordered by Megatron, or he felt
it was a matter of security.  But since Nightbird was apparently to be a new
member of the Decepticon army, he felt it wise to learn a little more about
her.  It was no great surprise to find that his initial assessment of her
personality had been correct; even without applying telepathy, Soundwave tended
to be an accurate judge of character.  As to how she felt about the
Decepticons, about being snatched up and brought here....
     She was first of all enthralled with Megatron - no great surprise there
either.  The image of him fighting Optimus Prime in the conference center was
fixed firmly into her mind.  With it, for the first time in her short life, had
come the realization that robotic life-forms could aspire to more than just
following the commands of humans who were putting them through their paces.
Her feeling about her human creator was utterly neutral; Soundwave caught
glimpses of memory, of the human running endless preliminary performance tests
with Nightbird in his lab - utilize this weapon, demonstrate that martial
art - and Nightbird had complied unresistingly, for she had never known
anything else.  But the sight of the attacking Decepticons - robots who were
obviously not subordinate to or in league with the humans - had awakened
something in her: the awareness that she was an individual, someone who had the
right to make her own choices and express her own desires, separate from the
expectations of mere humans.  And what she desired was Megatron, who had taught
her this, simply by being who he was.
     Her feeling about the other Decepticons was one of curiosity.  She wanted
very much to know where they came from and what their purpose in life was - and
she was confident that she would find out, in time.  She was not intimidated by
the somewhat rough-and-tumble Decepticon fighting force, as other aliens might
have been, for she was secure in her own fighting powers.  She knew, on a basic
level, that she was more than a match for any one of them except possibly
Megatron, if it came to one-on-one combat.
     Even Starscream, who had made a bad impression on her right from the
beginning, was no threat to her.  She rather disdained him - in fact, thought
too little of him to bear him any real animosity - but did not feel the need to
prove her superior fighting skill.  If attacked, she would defend herself, and
do it well; if left alone, she would do likewise.
     Satisfied, Soundwave pulled his thoughts back from her.  It was going to
be interesting, to watch her develop into a full-fledged member of the
Decepticon army - and perhaps more than that.
     "Let me know if you need anything," he told her, and turned to go.  He
paused at the door and looked back at her.  "Welcome to the Decepticons," he
added.

[end flashback]

     Starscream stirred, turning his head to one side and moaning softly.
Soundwave had sealed off the lubrication ducts and removed the smashed
circuitry from his one optic socket, but he still had only one functioning
optic sensor, and the lens had not yet been replaced.  It brightened unsteadily
as Starscream struggled toward an awareness of his surroundings.
     After a few moments he seemed to recognize the repair bay and realize
where he was.  Then he gasped in pain and dimmed his eye to black.  Soundwave
continued his work.  Slowly, tentatively, Starscream's eye brightened again.
     "S-Soundwave?" he asked in an incredulous whisper.  "You're repairing me?
*You*?"
     Soundwave barely glanced at him, and reached for another tool.  "The
Constructicons refuse to touch you," he said inflectionlessly.  "They know what
happened."
     True, Megatron could be difficult to live with; he was highly demanding,
with an unpredictable temper, and always quick to fling insults and curses when
things didn't go his way.  Yet he had his own brand of honor and fairness,
always giving credit where it was due -- and though he demanded a great deal of
his troops, he demanded even more of himself, and never asked a warrior to risk
any danger that he himself would avoid.  He was a dynamic and charismatic
commander, almost always *leading* his troops into battle rather than sitting
back in the safety of the base and *sending* them, like other leaders that
Soundwave had known.  And at odd moments, when he dropped the role of the
authoritarian commander, Megatron could be personable, understanding, even
compassionate, and intensely loyal to those rare individuals whom he trusted
enough to consider friends.  Contrary to Autobot propaganda, most of Megatron's
immediate underlings were actually quite fond of him...

[begin flashback]

     Soundwave looked around the empty control room in mild surprise.  He had
fully expected to find Megatron at the computer, and of course Nightbird with
him.  But the room was deserted, the interactive consoles and viewscreens shut
down.  With a shrug, Soundwave returned to the corridors to look elsewhere.
     He passed Skywarp, who was on his way to the holo-simulator.  "Have you
see Megatron?"  Soundwave asked him.
     "Yeah - he went for a walk," the black jet replied.
     "A *walk*?"
     "With Nightbird.  Though if you ask me, they had more in mind than lookin'
at the scenery," he added with a suggestive grin.
     "Show some respect, Skywarp," Soundwave admonished.
     "Hey, don't get me wrong - I think she's good for him," Skywarp answered,
and continued on his way.
     He had a point, Soundwave mused.  In the past few days, Megatron had in
fact seemed more relaxed, less driven, less likely to snap at his warriors over
minor infractions.
     One Decepticon who undoubtedly did not appreciate this subtle change in
attitude was Starscream.  The red-and-silver jet had always made it his
specialty to try and goad Megatron to anger with subtly insulting remarks and
sarcastic insinuations - and those tactics had far less effect these days.
Megatron had even turned the tables on him, off-handedly threatening to replace
him as Subcommander.  Soundwave knew that Megatron had no intention of carrying
out that threat -- that he was merely amusing himself, watching Starscream's
reaction - but Starscream, quite obviously, was not amused...

[end flashback]

     "Wh-what are you doing?" Starscream asked shakily.
     "Reconnecting the involuntary neurocircuitry to your oxygen infilters,"
Soundwave replied, without pausing in his work.
     "Hurts like hell."
     "I can imagine."
     Starscream dimmed his eye and clamped his teeth together, whimpering
quietly to himself.  Whenever Soundwave touched the inside of his chest cavity
with the micro-welder, he gave a sharp gasp, which eventually became suppressed
cries of pain.
     Soundwave relented and infused some destimulant into Starscream's fuel
line.  The minimal dose would deaden some, but not all, of the pain.  However
its mildly tranquilizing effect was enough to nudge Starscream back into
unconsciousness, and Soundwave could finish his work undisturbed.
     He had the most vital systems working on their own again -- fuel pump,
oxygen intakes, autonomic cerebral neuro-nets.  However, immunofiltration
functions were down, as well as fuel processing/energy extraction systems, and
much of the voluntary neurocircuitry that allowed conscious movement.  Flight
engines and transformational circuitry remained all but nonexistent.  All of it
required extensive replacement parts.  And at least until the immunofiltration
and fuel uptake systems could be repaired, Starscream would have to remain
hooked to the life-support machines that would perform these functions for him.
Soundwave had already assigned Reflector to begin manufacture of parts, but it
would still be tomorrow afternoon before the first of them were ready.
     Soundwave carefully moved Starscream to one of the repair bay's intensive
care units, and hooked up wires and tubing from the ominous tangle of
life-support machinery that loomed over the bed.  Activating the machinery, he
watched for a while as the proper lights came on and the system took up its
soft electronic hum.  As a precaution, he pulled down the restraint bars and
secured them over Starscream's chest.  The jet had practically no movement in
his lower body, but could move his arms to some degree; if he were to thrash
about in his sleep, he could detach himself from the life-support wires.  The
restraints snapped down securely over his arms and kept him still.
     Soundwave turned away and shut off the lights.  The corridor outside
the repair bay was dark and deserted.  Soundwave could hear the soft hissing of
forced air as it circulated through the undersea base.  His footsteps echoed
loudly from the bare metal walls as he walked to the nearest turbo-lift and
rode downward.
     The sea-floor level of the base seemed empty as well, the hallways dark
except for faint battery-powered guide-lights set into the ceiling.  The other
Decepticons had vanished, no doubt withdrawn into their private quarters.  None
of them particularly wanted to face Megatron.  Except for Soundwave.  He turned
into one of the larger corridors leading to the left, and followed the
guide-lamps.
     The sliding door to the control center stood open up ahead, and a
rectangle of yellow light spilled out into the dark hallway.  Soundwave could
hear the almost sub-audial hum of the massive computer system, the intermittent
tapping of touch-pads.  From the sound of it, Megatron had the entire system
powered up to its fullest.  Soundwave thought fleetingly of the power it was
sucking from their already depleted reserves, though he was sure that such
concerns did not interest the Decepticon leader now.
     He entered the huge control chamber, twice as large as the computer center
at their land base.  Three walls were taken up from floor to ceiling by banks
of computer consoles, screens, interfaces, and read-out displays.  Megatron sat
before the largest of the viewscreens, rapidly running through a series of
images and patterns on this and several smaller screens inset around it.  He
might as well have been part of the computer system himself, the way he
crouched over his interactive console as though physically connected to it.  He
did not even acknowledge Soundwave's presence when he walked up next to his
leader.  Megatron's optics flickered rapidly from one screen to the other, his
hands playing the dials and touchpads in an almost automated fashion.
     Soundwave sat down in the chair next to him.  "Any luck?" he asked
quietly.
     Megatron shook his head.  His eyes never left the screens.  Soundwave knew
he had not re-fueled in almost 24 hours, but any suggestion to stop and take a
break would have been worse than useless.
     "I *will* find her," Megatron growled through clenched teeth, as though
picking up on Soundwave's thoughts.  "If I have to physically tear the whole
planet apart to do it.  If only I hadn't sent her after that damn energy-supply
chip...."
     Soundwave winced slightly at the savage self-recrimination in Megatron's
tone.   "It's not your fault," he tried to convince him.  "The blame lies
entirely with Starscream and the Autobots...."
     Megatron did not even register his words.  His fingers flew across the
touchpads, calling up new signals.  Soundwave turned his attention to some of
the read-outs.  Megatron was re-tracing and scanning all radio, short-wave, and
other communications-transmissions from the last twelve hours, from throughout
the world, in hopes of finding where Nightbird had been hidden.  Almost too
quickly to read and process, the multiple screens spit out data on recent human
border skirmishes, governmental coups, stock market ups and downs, natural
disasters, terrorist bombings, elections, medical statistics -- but nothing on
a lone ninja robot who was locked away somewhere...and that was if she was
lucky.  If she was *not* lucky, the humans and Autobots had already dismantled
her.  A distinct possibility, Soundwave knew, and one that had undoubtedly
crossed Megatron's mind as well...

[begin flashback]

     The land base's small repair bay was adequate for such minor tasks as
soldering a weakened wing-joint, which Thundercracker had received on an energy
raid earlier that day.  Soundwave finished up, and the ice-blue jet hopped down
off the table.  He moved the wing experimentally.  "Feels fine," he said.
"Thanks, Soundwave!"
     He joined Skywarp, who had lingered around the doorway waiting for him,
and the two jets left.  Soundwave began to put away his tools, but almost
immediately he heard other footsteps approaching.  Curiously he looked up -- no
one else had been damaged on the raid--
     Megatron strode into the small repair bay and slid the door shut behind
him "Soundwave," he began, "I think, maybe, you should run a diagnostic on me."
     "A diagnostic?" Soundwave questioned.  This was highly unusual.  Normally
Megatron could not be dragged into a repair bay unless he was severely damaged;
it took a minor miracle -- or a very determined Soundwave -- to maneuver him in
for routine maintenance checks.  The Decepticon leader tended to resent any
indication that he was not completely and totally invulnerable.  And now he was
*asking* for a diagnostic check?  "Is there a problem?" Soundwave asked.
     "Yes, I think so."  Megatron's gaze traveled from Soundwave up along the
wall of the room, over the examination table, and across the rows of tools and
instruments in their cases.  It was clear that he was not entirely comfortable
with the subject.
     Soundwave waited patiently until Megatron's gaze came back to him.  "What
sort of problem?" he prodded gently when the silver Decepticon remained silent.
     "Well ... I think I have a feedback loop in my memory circuits.  It keeps
replaying the same subject matter.  I can't seem to disengage it."
     "What subject matter?" Soundwave asked, when Megatron again fell silent.
     "What difference does it make!" he snapped defensively.  "Just get rid of
it!"
     "It makes a difference," Soundwave assured him, beginning to form a
realization.  "What subject matter?"
     Megatron glared at him.  "Well...*Nightbird*," he answered grudgingly.  "I
don't see what difference that makes!  It's just a mnemonic circuitry problem.
And I'm having a hard time concentrating.  My attention wanders.  It's -
disconcerting."
     Soundwave nodded.  "Understandable.  But there's nothing I can do about
it."
     "What?!" Megatron demanded.  "How would you know?  You haven't even run
the diagnostic yet!  What kind of a repairs specialist are you, anyway?"
     "It *is* only my *secondary* function," Soundwave reminded him.
     "Yes - but that still puts you light-years ahead of any other repaireon
I've ever met," Megatron said.  It sounded more like an accusation than a
compliment.
     "Perhaps," Soundwave conceded.  "But there is still nothing I can do."
Megatron's eyes flashed brighter with growing anger.  Soundwave regarded him
steadily.  "Megatron, I must admit, I'm a bit surprised.  With all the females
you've known on Cybertron -- haven't you ever been in love before?"
     Megatron's eyes went blank with amazement - then narrowed.  "Don't get
insulting," he growled.
     Soundwave suppressed a smile.  "It's not a crime, you know."
     "It's *crazy*," Megatron countered.  He spun away from Soundwave, and then
back to face him.  "Alright -- what do I *do* about it?"
     "Why would you want to do anything about it?"
     "Because the situation is intolerable.  I can't think of anything but her.
I can't keep my mind on my work.  All I want to do is go off somewhere and be
alone with her...to my quarters, or out among the mountains, or down to the
holo-simulator...you should *see* her in action in the holo-simulator!  She's a
walking armory - she has weapons I haven't even seen yet!  And she's got
hand-to-hand combat skills like you wouldn't believe.  I could watch her
forever--"  He broke off abruptly and shot Soundwave a significant look.
"See what I mean?"
     Soundwave leaned back against the examination table and folded his arms.
"Okay, so it's distracting," he agreed.  "It will be, at first.  Especially
since you are not accustomed to the sensation.  But surely it's not *all* bad?
Surely you are deriving some happiness from the relationship...?"
     Megatron opened his mouth to reflexively snap a protest, then shut it
again.  "I...*guess* so," he agreed cautiously.
     "And surely, having her in your life makes things just a little bit more
worthwhile -- gives you just a little bit more incentive to return to Cybertron
someday and rule?"
     "Okay...that's a valid point," Megatron agreed, still guarded.
     "And?  Could you imagine going back to an existence without her?"
     "No," Megatron stated without hesitation.  "I would not want to exist
without her."
     "Then what's so terrible about having found the perfect female and being
in love?" Soundwave asked.  It was little more than a rhetorical question.
     Megatron met his eyes, and the last of his protests and barriers dropped
away.  Slowly a smile spread over his face.  "Alright, alright," he said.  "You
devious old rustbucket.  I guess you're going to tell me to just get on with my
life and enjoy it, right?"
     Soundwave smiled in return.  "Exactly."
     Megatron began to turn away, then paused.  His eyes registered the barest
hint of warning.  "But not a word of this to anyone," he commanded.
     "Of course," Soundwave replied.
     As though it wasn't obvious to anyone who was halfway conscious...

[end flashback]

     The planet-wide communications signals were proving unproductive, and
Megatron switched over into a computer assault.  Infiltrating one of the
scientific community's largest e-mail networks, he began to trace the
connections back to prominent research labs and their databases.  Finding the
connections between computers was simple -- even bypassing human-designed
protection systems was no problem -- but sorting through all the data dumped
from all of those computers into the Decepticon mainframe -- that would take
slightly short of forever.  But Megatron seemed undaunted by the massively
complicated task that lay ahead of him.  His eyes were fixed on the
viewscreens, bright with the intensity of his concentration.  Behind that
overlay of brightness, Soundwave could see the deeper maroon shades of the pain
and grief that Megaton was keeping tightly under control.  If only he would
talk about it, Soundwave thought sadly.  If only he wouldn't keep it all to
himself....  But then, who was he, Soundwave, to make that demand?  He had done
the same once, long ago....
     An internal audio signal went off inside his helmet, interrupting the
thought.   It was as though someone were trying to contact him by internal
radio, but could only send the contact chime, not the actual voice signal.
Someone whose internal radio had been damaged beyond the point of functional
use.
     Reluctantly Soundwave rose from his chair.  Megatron broke off from his
work and looked up at him beseechingly.  "Where are you going?" he asked.
     "I will return in a few minutes," Soundwave assured him by way of reply.
"Then I will assist you in your task."
     A hint of gratitude flickered through Megatron's eyes.  He turned back to
his computer.
     With the contact chime now sounding repeatedly inside his helmet,
Soundwave walked to the nearest turbo-lift and rode up to repair bay.  When he
entered the intensive care ward and keyed up the lights, he found Starscream
trying to push and claw at his restraints.  "You can cease your radio signal,"
Soundwave told him, with some annoyance at the frantically sounding chime.
     Starscream ceased, but continued to push at the restraints.  "Get this
*thing* off me!" he demanded, indicating the cage-like structure that held him
down.  His voice held an edge of panic.  Soundwave recalled how flyers like
Starscream hated to be restrained, became more than a little nervous in tightly
enclosed spaces.  "*Well*?" the jet demanded, turning his cracked optic sensor
on Soundwave.  "Am I a prisoner or something?"
     "No.  I restrained you so you would not move in your sleep and disconnect
yourself from life support," Soundwave answered coldly.  He stepped up to the
bed and loosened the restraints, lifting the bars and locking them down again
in a higher, looser position.  They would still hinder extensive movement, but
would not fit quite so tightly.  "That's *better*," Starscream said sullenly.
Now that he was partially repaired, almost comfortable, and not in immediate
mortal danger, his old insolence was becoming apparent again.
     Soundwave regarded him dispassionately for a long moment.  "You are a
truly revolting piece of garbage," he said.  Starscream's optic sensor
brightened in surprise, for Soundwave only rarely stooped to insults.  "Why
couldn't you have left Megatron his happiness, just this once?"
     Starscream stared at him speechlessly.  Soundwave turned away, reached for
light switch by the door.
     "What do I care about Megatron's happiness?" Starscream called after him,
but his voice faltered -- whether from a twinge of genuine regret, or from the
realization that he was at Soundwave's mercy as long as he was under repair,
Soundwave could not tell.

                                 END

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