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Waiting in the shadows between decrepit, abandoned buildings, Soundwave held his arm out for Ratbat to alight. The mini-cassette landed, talons clicking against Soundwave's vambrace and the faint sheen of some hapless mech's energon on his fangs.
"Ratbat: report."
The reply wasn't in words but a directed tight-beam of code and coordinates. Soundwave understood it, of course. It told him in short order that Ratbat had succeeded in the primary directive of his mission and achieved the secondary and tertiary ones.
And the energon?
Ratbat sent an image, the picture quality suggesting it was copied from memory files rather than a deliberate image capture. The mech wore no brand, and the poor state of their paint and armour-plating strongly suggested they were Neutral, probably close to Empty. Likely not a mech that the Autobots would care about or think to look for despite their vaunted principles. There wouldn't have been much in their lines, but Ratbat had likely just wanted to feel his fangs sink into something. Indeed, feeding a Decepticon warrior was a better fate than wandering Cybertron as an Empty.
Ratbat sent him an image of another mech in better health than the first, although still a street mech. The image was accompanied by a query: was Soundwave hungry?
"Negative," Soundwave replied, adding, "report must be given to Megatron."
And that would mean a far better reward than feeding off a mech who'd been scrounging who knew what quality of energon for who knew how long.
"You've done well, Soundwave," Megatron said a joor later, pleased. "Very well indeed. You may approach and be rewarded."
"Soundwave: grateful," Soundwave said, with a nod. Then he approached, bent over the wrist that his lord and master held out, and sank his fangs deep. Megatron's wrist was scarred from many prior such feedings since he was the master of many vampires, but he made no attempt to have them smoothed away. His energon was rich, potent, and Soundwave could have drunk his fill blissfully. But this was a test of self-discipline as much as it was a reward, and he always drew back after only a few mouthfuls. Soundwave was one of Megatron's oldest vampires, though he hadn't turned him, and he knew the limits.
But this time, when he tried to pull away, Megatron stopped him with a hand on the back of his helm.
"A few more, I think, Soundwave," Megatron said indulgently. "I'm feeling generous tonight."
Soundwave was already bowing, head bent, and his mouth was busy. He tight-beamed his master glyphs of thanks, underscored with praise, and only drew back when the pressure of Megatron's hand eased. Soundwave was nothing if not obedient. He knew when permission granted changed to permission revoked. But he stayed in his bow, expressing gratitude and submission, waiting for Megatron to tip his chin up, a quiver of charge already moving through his lines.
He'd left his cassettes back in their shared quarters for a reason, after all. Soundwave hadn't known but, as always, he'd hoped.
"Now, Soundwave," Megatron said, tilting Soundwave's chin up till their optics met. "Why don't you show me how grateful you are, hm?"
"Yes, Lord Megatron." Soundwave stood, tipping his head back to expose his throat. Megatron was his master, the only one with the right to feed on Soundwave, and he sank his fangs into the marks he'd made so long ago.
Megatron steadied Soundwave in his arms while he drank. He drank shallowly but steadily. Soundwave overloaded twice before he was done.
"My most loyal servant," Megatron murmured.
"Always, Lord Megatron," Soundwave vowed, and not for the first time.
Megatron chuckled, and it could have been affectionate. "Yes, I know. Now, if you're not too worn out, let's see what we can do with the information you've brought me."
Soundwave wanted to recharge, but this was another test, and one he would not fail. He agreed. For his lord and master Megatron, he would always agree.