Changing Frequencies

Chapter II: Suspicions

"Repairs seem to be integrating perfectly... Shockwave did a good job."

Frequency silently regarded the red medic from where he stood, hidden optics roaming the perfect frame for a brief klik before turning full attention back onto Knockout's faceplates.

"There's not even a sign left of the damage he described," the medic was talking aloud, but Frequency doubted Knockout was truly talking to him, the mech appearing detached as the red decepticon flipped through his datapad.

Shockwave stood nearby, watching silently.

The scientist had done his best to replicate Soundwave's looks with the equipment he had. The helm had been slightly remodified to add an additional set of helm spikes along the crown of the younger mech's helm, special oral medications given to Frequency that would cause his color nanites to take on the dark purple of his deceased brother. The half-visor had been replaced with a dark, full-face mask. There was little Shockwave had been able to do to modify Frequency's frame into that of a host-mech, the scientist lacking the proper equipment and parts to do that. Hence, Buzzsaw must remain in place over Frequency's chassis whenever they were in complete sight of others, whether autobot or decepticon.

"Well, everything seems fine. Spark frequency seems clear," Knockout looked up from his datapad now, "everything's in working order."

"Logical considering I was the one conducting the repairs." Shockwave answered as he slowly stepped closer, regarding "Soundwave" for a moment before turning towards the medic. "From now on, I will be taking control of Soundwave's medical care."

Knockout frowned, taken aback by the news as he looked back and forth between the two higher-ranking officers. "Why? I assure you I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Lord Megatron's orders."

Those words were enough for Knockout to shut his mouth, though there was still a clearly unhappy expression on his faceplates. "As you wish," the smaller mech answered, turning to go and continue repairs on a nearby drone.

"I require the release of all his medical records. Nothing will be kept within the medbay." Shockwave announced, still unmoving from where he stood, single optic completely focused on the red grounder.

Frequency straightened up as Knockout turned towards him, the tall, lithe mech tilting his helm towards Shockwave. "Soundwave, requests permission to return to bridge." The mech questioned, using several different recordings to conduct the sentence, drawing each piece from the databanks downloaded from Soundwave's HUD.

"A logical request, Soundwave. You may return to your duties, but you will come to me if you meet any difficulties."

Fixed under that red gaze, Frequency shifted slightly before just turning and slowly making his way out of the medbay, drawing up a map of the Nemesis from within his brother's databanks, his HUD quickly highlighting the quickest way to the command bridge.

It was disconcerting, "wearing" his brother's frame and having his databanks downloaded into his own HUD.

Frequency silently reflected over the past week. He'd met some of the other Decepticons, though not in a way where he was introduced (he was expected to already know them, Soundwave's data helpfully supplying designations and any relevant information), and was slowly settling into a routine. The Decepticons had been told that "Soundwave" had been horrifically damaged and repaired in Shockwave's lab back on Cybertron. It was a viable excuse, specifically since half a dozen decepticons had seen Soundwave get shot down.

Even now Frequency could feel the optics on his frame: searching for the wounds that had been so horrifically described in the stories told during the off-time hours.

A single glance had them turning away, except.... Except he still felt as if he were being watched.

Frequency stopped in the middle of the hall, hidden optics searching the area in front of him as he tried to identify the source, but there was no one in sight.

The feeling vanished almost as quickly as it had come, Frequency half turning as he sensed something nearby, a ghost-like brush against one arm causing him to stiffen, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come.

Glancing back down the hall, Frequency reached a servo up to lightly stroke a digit along Buzzsaw's back, the cyberbird giving a tiny croon of comfort. It did little for the TIC, the mech suspiciously continuing on his way now. No matter what his mind told him, Frequency knew someone or something had been there, touched him.

***

"I don't see what the problem is. We're getting good intel and don't have to work so hard for it." Ironhide announced loudly from where he sat, one servo supporting his helm as he boredly regarded those at the table.

"That's just ta problem, ma mech," Jazz responded from where he sat, the saboteur's digits laced behind his helm in a lazy way. "Somethin's not right. 'Raj has seen ol' Sounders around, but neither o' us have seen ta minions."

There was a silence that was clearly a prompt for Jazz to continue, the silver mech sighing loudly as he sat forwards, servos finding their way to the table now. "Soundwave's symbiotes are gone. Ever since ta accident, there's been no sign o' 'em."

"Killed when he crashed?" Ratchet questioned gruffly, arms crossed over his chassis as he scowled at the younger mech. "We saw what that blast did to Soundwave's chassis. Primus only knows what it did to them."

"Tha's the thing. Laserbeak's jus' fine."

Optimus Prime sat up a little straight, Ironhide jerked upright, Ratchet scoffed and Red Alert nearly glitched. Only Prowl remained quiet, faceplates as stoic as usual.

"Impossible!" Ratchet growled, sitting forwards. "Laserbeak would've been scrapped from that blast! I would've theorized he was the only reason Soundwave survived!" The medic snapped.

Jazz shrugged his shoulders. "Saw 'im sittin' pretty on Sounder's chassis. Perfectly unscathed." The saboteur answered lamely as silence fell.

"What is it you seem to be itchin' to ask?" Ironhide demanded now, the hot-headed mech glowering at the polyhexian.

"I wan' to go in." The silver mech answered, uncaring of Ironhide's obvious annoyance. "Somethin's up with ta cons, and I wanna find out wha' it is."

Prowl's left doorwing flicked as he spoke up for the first time since the beginning of the meeting. "Conducting a mission of that calibre would take megacycles to prepare. Not to mention the lack of meaning it would hold." The praxian announced coldly.

"Prowl, 'raj got in close enough ta touch Soundwave. Somethin's up."

"Regardless, Soundwave could still be recovering from his injuries and still somewhat handicapped. There's no need to call in a mission on this."

Jazz sat forwards now, doorwings tense. "We all saw Soundwave get shot outta the sky, we all thought he was gone for. He all but vanished for nearly a' orn, then he jus' shows up again outta the blue?" The silver mech questioned eagerly, "me an' ma team were in an' outta the Nemesis. Never once did we see 'im in ta medbay."

Doorwings flicking in irritation, Prowl moved to speak again when Optimus Prime held up a servo. "Both of you have presented valid points. I believe it's too early to order a mission on this," the autobot leader gave Jazz a look to prevent the saboteur from interrupting, "however I find Soundwave's sudden reappearance to be curious. Jazz will continue surveillance until we decide if a deep undercover is necessary. Until then we will keep this to ourselves." The prime ordered, his present officers nodding in agreement though Jazz looked a little dejected.

Giving a salute when those intense, blue optics turned onto him, Jazz mumbled an affirmative. He was truly disappointed at being restricted to the usual recon, specifically because he was certain something aboard the Nemesis had changed. Megatron was cooking something, and waiting only increased the chances of it being too late.

Jazz just had to find enough proof to convince Prowl and Optimus that a deep undercover was needed, then he would fine out what the decepticons were hiding.

Or who.

fffOe