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“How much farther to the coordinates?”
Megatron squinted scarlet optics to see the display upon the visor of his companion, blinking against the blinding glare of the arctic sun on the snow. With a snarl of annoyance, he set ahead once more, the dark bot behind him as silent as a shadow.
“According to Knock Out’s analysis, so long as we are exposed to solar heat, it will keep our core temperatures from dropping too low,” the warlord reminded him, though he knew his companion was already aware of this information. Internally he cursed whoever was responsible for landing this particular Iacon relic in such a frigid wasteland, a place named by the humans as Severnaya Zemlya, Siberia.
Soundwave, as always, gave no indication that he had even heard his superior’s words, but only gave a minute dip of his visor to check on the small being affixed to his chassis. Laserbeak was more susceptible to the frigid temperature than the larger bots, and Soundwave closely monitored the minicon’s systems in case of trouble. But for the moment, the birdlike Decepticon was basking in the weak warmth provided by his master and the low arctic sun.
Cresting a snow-covered rise, the pair surveyed the bleak expanse, a white wasteland sweeping to the frigid blue horizon, broken only by the black jutting outcrops of rock cliffs.
“Below here is the glacier,” Megatron said, scanning the icy terrain and spotting a wall of ice stretching away to the sea. “We are fortunate it has not covered the relic site. A pity we could not simply fly to its location, but now that we have experienced this accursed gelidity firsthand, I believe Knock Out’s warning of wind chill was most prudent.”
Before beginning their descent, the warlord squinted into the sun-shrouded distance. The arctic sky was mostly cloud-free, save for a dark smudge to the northwest. But it was far off, so Megatron dismissed it and started down the slope, Soundwave shadowing his steps. Stopping for too long allowed the cold to creep in like a wraith infiltrating every exposed joint.
“Lord Megatron, how goes your search?” Came Starscream’s rasp through the comm.
“The sooner we get out of this Primus-forsaken waste, the better,” Megatron growled. “My one comfort is that if any Autobots are nearby, they also are partaking of our misery.”
“Be on your watch for polar blizzards, my liege,” now Knock Out spoke. “According to my research, they can sweep in without warning, and in temperatures like those, the wind and snow would be enough to ruin even the sturdiest of finishes.”
Megatron gave an irate snarl. “Fortunately, some of us are not as in touch with our vanity as others, doctor,” he grated out. The chill was making him cross enough already, the last thing he needed was useless advice from that pompous, self-absorbed excuse for a medic.
“Ah, my apologies, Lord Megatron,” Knock Out replied hastily. “But do take care. These blizzards can last for days, and they will surely disrupt any attempt at communications, as well as dropping your core temperatures dangerously low should you remain without shelter. On top of that, visibility would be reduced to nearly zero, even for Soundwave’s thermal scanners.”
“Yes, yes, take caution,” Megatron snarled, growing impatient. “Your input has been noted, doctor. Starscream, remain on standby until further notice.”
The Decepticon pair continued their trek. The only sound in the frozen waste was the crunch of two sets of pedes on the snow, broken only by the occasional deep, deep sound emanating from the nearby glacier like a living thing. Had Megatron not known otherwise, he would have never thought the planet capable of supporting life for how bleak the current landscape was.
“Soundwave, we must be nearly there by—” The warlord turned back to his companion and paused. The dark bot had both servos crossed over his chassis as he walked, like some antiquated salute…or a shield.
“What is the meaning of this?” Megatron inquired, scarlet optics narrowing. The two had passed into the long shadow cast by the glacier, the low arctic sun rendering the surveillance mech nearer to a dark patch against the snow than a living thing.
Soundwave uncrossed one servo just long enough to tap his chassis with spidery fingers, where Laserbeak sat secure. Status readings flashed upon the silent bot’s visor, and Megatron saw that the lack of sun had already dropped the small minicon’s temperature uncomfortably low.
“I see.” The warlord had not considered that Laserbeak would have a lower tolerance for cold than the two larger Cybertronians. Soundwave he knew had a lesser capacity than himself, but this was expected, as Megatron was much larger than the slender bot. But he had forgotten his spy’s ever-present companion.
“Just a little longer, Soundwave,” Megatron said, unwilling to give up the mission when they were so close to their goal. “It is not far to the—”
The rest of his statement was broken off by a howling gale of white. It hit the two Decepticons like a solid wall, staggering both and nearly blinding them. Frozen snow like bullets pelted the two relentlessly in the driving wind, the clear arctic landscape now invisible behind a wall of gray.
“Soundwave!” Megatron bellowed, but his voice was carried away in the howling wind. He spotted a dark smudge amidst the whirling snow and lurched toward it, hoping it was his companion. Ice was already invading his joints, this combined with the wind making every movement a grinding effort.
The warlord’s search was rewarded by the sight of the slender mech. Soundwave staggered against the wind, gripping Megatron’s arm with one servo while using the other to shield his chassis.
“We must find shelter!” Megatron shouted, looking about wildly into the gray, featureless storm. He could not even see their tracks in the snow, rendering it impossible to tell from which direction they had come. The thought occurred to him to use the glacier wall for shelter, but with no way to tell if they were heading in the right direction, they could easily end up wandering in circles until they collapsed from system failure.
With an oath, the silver bot picked what he thought was the correct direction and began forcing his way against the wind, Soundwave gripping his arm. If they became separated, they might never find one another again.
“Starscream, can you hear me?” Megatron demanded, crimson optics squinted against the driving snow. “We need a groundbridge immediately!”
A garbled response reached his ears, but he could not make out what was being said. Megatron cursed—it was as Knock Out had predicted. They were on their own.
“Keep moving, Soundwave!” He ordered, “We must find shelter before our joints freeze and lock us in place!”
The silent bot gave no reply, but Megatron could feel him already struggling to keep pace with his larger companion. The cold was affecting him at a concerning rate. Megatron pushed ahead, knowing that to stop now would mean certain death.
Without warning, a dark mass loomed up out of the snow so suddenly that Megatron ran into it. Staggering to regain his balance, he saw a jagged wall of ice stretching away in both directions, as well as above them. They had found the glacier. Large snowdrifts were already beginning to form against the frozen barrier.
“Quickly, Soundwave!” Megatron urged, “see if you can find an opening, a cave, anything to give us some respite!”
It took the spy a moment to respond, which worried Megatron. But Soundwave’s tendrils snaked out, questing along the icy expanse of the glacier wall. Megatron followed suit, driving blows into the ice to see if he could reveal some hidden crevice. He could already feel the cold sapping his strength, and could only imagine how bad it must be for his smaller companion.
At last the warlord’s efforts were rewarded. He drove his fist into the wall of ice and a portion of it collapsed, showering the two Decepticons with debris and revealing a small opening. It was little more than a crevice, its sides jagged and uneven, but Megatron was growing desperate.
“You first, Soundwave,” he ordered the other mech. “I will use myself to block the entrance.”
Soundwave looked up sharply, but a glare from Megatron warned him against protesting. His gait unsteady, the slender bot slipped into the opening, his wings scraping the sides. Megatron followed, wedging himself into the confined space, his tremendous strength carving out space where none existed to fit his massive shoulders.
The makeshift shelter left much to be desired. Both bots were crammed so tightly that they could scarcely move, and had Soundwave’s long arms not already been raised in shielding his chassis, Megatron doubted he would have been able to do so in the cramped space. As for the warlord, the wind still beat upon his mostly exposed back, but his bulk managed to shield the majority of the snow from reaching into their meager haven.
“How is Laserbeak faring?” Megatron asked, partly out of concern for the minicon and partly to give the two of them something to distract from the bleakness of their situation.
Again, it took Soundwave several moments to respond. A status reading appeared on his visor, showing that the minicon’s systems were still dangerously low, but were not falling so fast as they had been out in the wind and snow.
“Good,” Megatron murmured. “See if you can bring him closer to me. With our shared heat, scant as it may be, he should stabilize.”
Soundwave’s joints groaned as he tried to move, his motions clumsy and lethargic. But he managed to draw himself up, and with Megatron forcing his way further into the space, the two placed themselves chassis to chassis with Laserbeak snugly between them. As the warlord had predicted, the minicon’s systems began to level off as he soaked up the meager warmth generated by the two larger bots.
“Try to contact the Nemesis again,” Megatron ordered, knowing that if he let Soundwave sit idle for too long in this cold, he would be more likely to fall into stasis, a death sentence in temperatures such as these. “See if they can pinpoint our coordinates.”
Soundwave’s visor flickered with processes, but all ended in errors. Megatron bit back a snarl. His back felt as though it had turned into a solid block of ice, but there was nothing that could be done. He could only draw nearer to Soundwave, sharing in what little warmth they could foster between them.
Time seemed to stand still. The wind howled like a wild beast, snow driving into every exposed crevice of the glacier wall. A perpetual half-light hung over all, dimming to an opaque blue-green within the confines of the Decepticons’ wanting haven.
Megatron was unsure how much time had passed when he became aware that he could no longer feel the wind upon his back. Trying to turn his head felt as though his neck was being wrung off, but he managed to glimpse behind him and see that snow had completely covered the entrance, effectively walling the two bots into their crevice and dimming the light even further.
“Soundwave, stay alert,” Megatron ordered, cursing how his words slurred. His systems were inching ever closer to failure. “Soundwave!”
His servos clumsy, the warlord seized the other bot’s shoulders and shook him roughly, sending a small cascade of icy powder into the air where his wings ground against the jagged walls. Soundwave stirred, lifting his head, but it was clear even such a small movement required a tremendous effort.
“Do not fall into stasis.” Megatron encased the side of his pit brother’s faceplate in one massive servo, scarlet optics reflecting in the dark of his visor. “Do so, and you may never wake.”
The surveillance chief managed a nod. Megatron wracked his mind for some way to keep them occupied, keep them awake, until help arrived. If it arrived.
He shook his head, scattering these thoughts. Now was no time to be cynical. They had only to stay awake.
“Do you remember the first time we set foot into the Iacon Hall of Records?” The warlord said, desperate to distract both himself and Soundwave. “By the Allspark, neither of us had ever seen so much knowledge condensed into one place. I am sure we were quite the sight, two battle-scarred pit gladiators wandering the shelves of that prim and proper hall.”
Soundwave shifted, giving a silent nod. Megatron felt a flash of relief, knowing his words were keeping the spy’s mind occupied enough to keep from shutting down, so he continued.
“That was before the treachery of Orion Pax,” he murmured, his scarlet gaze becoming distant, lost in times far gone. “You knocked over a shelf on accident, but he caught it as though it weighed nothing, saying that such things happened all the time.”
Megatron gave a half-smile at the fond memories. “That was before your vow, and I still recall how you laughed when that puny little librarian told Kaon’s greatest gladiator to take his pedes off the table.”
Soundwave shuddered, all his plating rattling, but whether it was the silent bot’s approximation of a laugh, or from cold, Megatron could not tell.
The frost continued to creep in ever deeper. Soundwave was beginning to nod, his visor dipping only to catch himself with a jerk. Megatron found himself doing the same, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He could scarcely feel his limbs anymore. Still, he forced himself to keep talking, recounting stories of their greatest victories in the pits, of fighting with and against one another while crowds roared like the blizzard outside. But even the effort of speech was becoming more and more difficult.
“Sound…wave…” Megatron located his companion’s servo, fighting to keep his optics open, but his vision was beginning to cloud. The other mech’s spindly fingers were cold and unresponsive in the warlord’s grasp. “Do not…shut down…..”
But Soundwave gave no reply. With his last ounce of strength, Megatron gathered the slight figure to himself, holding him close even as his failing systems could no longer detect the spy’s weight against him. Was this death?
The cold and dark swallowed them up.
“Commander Starscream, over here!”
A squad of vehicons descended upon an enormous snowdrift as the seeker approached, masterfully disguising his dismay. The troops sent showers of snow into the air as they dug, the night-dark glacier illuminated by floodlights.
“Quickly,” Starscream rasped out, “retrieve our lord, or I will have all your sparks!”
At last the vehicons hit metal, and further digging revealed the broad back of Kaon’s mightiest warrior. It took four troops to dislodge the massive mech from his position wedged into the ice, but finally Megatron stumbled back, his legs buckling and landing him in a sitting position amidst the snowdrift. His head lolled forward upon his chassis, but he did not loosen his grip upon the slender figure cradled in his arms like a child.
Knock Out hurried forward, kneeling before the warlord and tipping his head up with a delicate servo. Two slits of flaming scarlet pierced the frost-encrusted faceplate, and Megatron blinked blearily up at the medic. “Knock Out…did you recover the relic?”
The crimson mech shook his head. “We will worry about that later, my liege,” he replied, grasping the warlord’s icy shoulder. “For now, you need to get warmed up.”
Here he looked down at the dark, motionless figure of Soundwave nestled in the warlord’s arms. “All three of you.”
Megatron was awakened by a loud crash, followed by the sound of Knock Out’s irate voice.
“Why, you dunce, you—I told you not to get up, now look what you’ve done!”
The warlord opened his eyes with an effort, blinking against his still-clouded vision as he surveyed the Nemesis medical bay. Before him on the floor, Soundwave was sprawled in an undignified heap after an apparent unsuccessful attempt to stand. Beside him, Knock Out danced about, trying to keep the spy’s flailing tendrils from tripping him while berating his silent patient.
“For the umpteenth time, Laserbeak is fine!” Knock Out cried, dodging Soundwave’s lashing tendrils in their apparent quest for the minicon. “He’s doing splendid, which is more than I can say for you if you keep exerting yourself like that. Now, you’re getting back on that table if I have to strap you down to it!”
Reluctantly, Soundwave allowed the medic to assist him back onto the table, tendrils retracting back into his chassis, which was noticeably lacking a certain minicon. The spy’s plating was covered helmet to heelstrut in scratches from the icy deluge, but he otherwise lacked any outward damage.
“Knock Out,” Megatron rasped, concealing a wince at the pain engendered by the effort of speech, “How is Laserbeak faring?”
“My liege, you are awake at last!” The crimson Decepticon scanned the warlord’s vitals before replying. “Laserbeak is doing quite well, all things considered,” he said, gesturing to a nearby worktable where the small bot sat hooked up to an array of wires and tubes. “I’ve had to take care with applying heat to avoid system shock, so it will be several cycles before he is fit for duty again. Still, he’s quite the resilient little ‘con.”
Soundwave angled his visor toward the minicon, one tendril uncoiling to snake across and give Laserbeak’s frame a gentle stroke, earning a weak chirrup from the drone.
“As for you and Soundwave,” Knock Out continued, “Your core temperatures were so low it took several recalibrations of our scanners to locate you. It is fortunate we found you when we did—much longer out there and you might have suffered permanent damage.”
Here the medic smirked. “But alas, it appears you will both pull through. I almost pity poor Starscream, his hopes are dashed yet again.”
“Your bedside manner continues to gall, doctor,” Megatron growled in exasperation, but he was too exhausted to remain angry for long. His limbs felt as though they were weighed down with boulders, making any attempt at movement a lost cause.
“Since you will be confined to the medical bay for at least two cycles,” Knock Out went on, holding up his buffer with a wicked grin, “That will give me plenty of time to see about taking care of all those dreadful scratches. Just seeing your finish in such an abysmal state is an affront to my optics, and I will not stand for it.”
Megatron groaned. He was already suffering enough without having his appearance fussed over. “That is not necessary—”
“Nonsense, once I’m through with you you’ll be the second flashiest bots on this entire ship.” The crimson mech waved a dismissive servo before flashing a smug smile. “After myself, of course. And I am sure you are familiar with the old adage—in the medical bay, the doctor outranks everyone.”
The warlord exchanged an exasperated look with Soundwave, but could not muster the strength to argue, so he allowed the medic to proceed.
As the hum of the buffer filled the room, Megatron felt something snakelike coiling around his arm. Glancing down, he saw one of Soundwave’s tendrils had surreptitiously slithered across from the spy’s resting place to give the silver bot’s arm a gentle squeeze.
Looking up, Megatron met the dark Decepticon’s gaze. Soundwave gave the tiniest of nods, a message only his pit brother would understand: Thank you.
Megatron laid his head back upon the table, allowing the drone of the buffer to lull him back into relaxed stasis. There were still things to do, of course—the relic had not been recovered, and no doubt Starscream was preparing his victory speech this very moment.
But his brother was safe. And for now, that was all that mattered.