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Vos, the city of freedom

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At first he moved back, looking around and stumbling on concrete cracks, but strange beast catched him up and planned somewhere above the head — so, Snowflake ran. He dodged, bending down to dusty and dirty surface, he could not remember, why it should have saved from the shots. However, the beast stopped trying to hurt him. His right wing was still hurt, and he could not see, how seriously it was harmed.

There were flashed jets in the sky, leaving gray contrails at the dark, in each window of the towers around was some people, who could hear him… He wanted to scream, but couldn’t find the words, and finally understood — no one will help. Any screams, any requests were useless. Like many cycles ago, when he was young and so scared that he couldn’t move hand or foot. Then he had been imprisoned in one of empty rooms. But now he grew up und knew — they have only tried to protect him. He grew up and must have fended for himself, but he had only blasters, and he had already tried to shoot this… animal? Guided weapon?

He leaned against the rock — he didn’t notice how he had run to the edge of the city. The spark pulsated in horror, all the systems approached thermal overload, so the rock under his wings seemed icy. His legs trembled so stark that he must have sat down, more exactly, slide on the rough ground. It seemed, that the covering of his wings became ragged and exuded energon, and they ached. Snowflake narrowed optics and tried to seek the silver-grey winged pursuer at glowing background of the towers. Could it be true, that he shaked off?

Small shadow flashed on the right, falling from the sky — no, from the ledge on the cliff, Snowflake noticed. He rolled on the crumbling stones and picked up the heavy one. The beast was small and seemed pretty, had of two wings and some kind of frame, but Snowflake was scared by it.

Maybe it would be better to let the beast to closer to him and strike it, because now it easily dodged from the thrown stone. Beast's metal wings noisily smashed into his chestplate, his hands got numb from powerful electric discharge, and Snowflake screamed from pain and fear. Beast’s legs hook something behind, between helmet and neck. It got dark, few nanokliks he felt cold and stinging air in ventilation systems — but soon it disappeared too.

By the time it was over, his frame refused to obey long time, and it was hard to focus on the colorful shiny towers of Vos — they were rising to sky somewhere on the left, at the same time in twenty steps and a world away from him. Star, slightly shimmering and quivering slightly, were farther, in the thousands or millions of light-years, and the names of the largest constellations easy came back to his memory, together with the navigation charts and control points of the hyper-jumps.

Soundwave. His name is Soundwave, and he had been a lieutenant of space reconnaissance up to the cycle when his home planet collapsed at foundry of the civil war and divided into many autonomies. His name is Soundwave, and he conquered death.

He couldn’t believe that it was so simple.

Megatron didn't believe too, but kept Lazerbeak as he had promised, — and the memory about this conversation warmed Soundwaves' spark, driving the cold away. Here he was sheltered from the wind by high rocks, but he knew the bad thing about being that high up — here couldn’t be warm. Megatron didn't believe, Soundwave heard irritation in his voice, when he grabbed his hand and made him touch Lazerbeak… It was in the time, when all of them — big spaceship and all survived expedition members — drifted to Cybertron, waiting for a chance to return home with only one jump, because the hyperdrives were unable to do more. Then Orion Pax decided to tell Megatron, who temporarily assumed the duties of the captain, about his suspicions: he thought, that he knew the real reason of the raiders’ attack that had found the Darkstar in the endless expanses of space. In those cycles Megatron couldn’t to find a way to spend time with dying Soundwave, and after, when the doctor Ratchet saved his life, permanently destroyed his faceplate and eliminated his dynamics of voice, no one remembered this desperate plea.

But if Lazerbeak was here, in spite of jets’ protection measures, so, Megatron didn’t forget his promise. Ha, they had committed enormous amounts of energy to support the static and impenetrable force dome — and skipped the semi-intelligent droid spy! Surely the local surveillance system was closely monitoring the air in those kliks, when it was necessary to allow access, although it was strange that there wasn’t the limited list of energy signatures. But Lazerbeak did everything in a right way. Smarty. Soundwave's finest creation, the perfect spy, and the most faithful companion. No one will be faithful as the droid, whose program didn’t imply anything else. Lazerbeak had really become an extension of himself, his integral part was the only one Soundwave could trust. If you want something done right, do it by yourself.

He raised his rebellious hand, stroking the thin wings that wrapped around the neck like reliable steel collar:

— Thank you, La…

Name — a set of sounds activating of fun or alert, depending on who said — sounded like short melodic trill, alien and unaccustomed, and Soundwave clawed his own throat trying to destroy his dynamic which was making so high pitched sounds. It was naive to expect that the voice would sound the same in the new frame. Lazerbeak vibrated alarmingly under his hand, and he took trembling fingers off his neck, made a fist, looking at the reflections of the city lights on a smooth surface. He was lucky he was born without claws, unlike most of the jets in Vos. They were going to kill him because of it, but an error in the genome just saved Lazerbeak.

«… three hundred and eighty-odd thousand jets in the city, only seven thousands of whom want to serve our warriors, — and have you decided to kill sparkling, which will have no choice among to learn how to use his processor?» — popped up in Soundwave’s mind. He didn’t know and didn’t want to know, why Snowflake was afraid almost to stasis of dark brown mech with insinuating voice, when the other one wanted to shoot him. Soundwave knew, why his spark raced now.

Duty officers in the decepticons’ force headquarters would find the signal of Soundwave’s spark soon, it would be clear and undistorted, that indicate the full merger of spark and memory. Maybe they had already found him and reported Megatron — and despite the fact that the last saved memories on Lazerbeak were recorded a little over three quartex ago, all the cities, that had subscribed to rebellion, couldn’t afford so many soldiers. They hadn’t been able to oppose Vos and open a second front then, they couldn’t do it now, but Soundwave knew Megatron and his opinion about Vos too well, so he was scared. If he would provoke a diplomatic conflict that could even destroy all decepticons’ army, was his resurrecting worth?

Three hundred and eighty thousand jets. The party to which they would join, would rule the Cybertron, and it had been clear vorns ago, then first Lazerbeak had brought photos of skyrocketing towers. Vos hadn’t been idle.

«I’m alive, — Soundwave sent it on a priority channel, using all encryption methods available to Lazerbeak’s systems. — Don’t do anything crazy until my next message».