The Senate chamber was already filling when Starscream arrived.
He took his platform without ceremony and began reviewing the day’s agenda as it scrolled across the console. Trade disputes. Transport regulations. Industrial production quotas. Nothing about Vos. Nothing about Kaon beyond the usual industrial language that managed to make unrest sound like accounting.
Thundercracker leaned over the gallery rail above him. “Anything interesting?”
“No.”
Thundercracker smirked. “That’s disappointing.”
Starscream’s optics shifted across the chamber, and that was when he noticed Ratbat’s platform was empty.
That alone was unusual. The Kaonian senator rarely missed a session, especially not after the previous cycle’s confrontation. Ratbat liked to be present when energy, labor, or allocation entered the discussion. He liked to shape the chamber before anyone realized they had been guided.
Starscream continued watching.
A moment later, a familiar blue figure stepped onto Ratbat’s platform.
Soundwave.
Thundercracker noticed immediately. “Well.”
Starscream said nothing.
Soundwave stood calmly at the platform console, reviewing the session agenda as though the seat belonged to him. His red visor remained fixed on the scrolling data, his posture composed, his movements exact. If Ratbat had sent him to act in his stead, Soundwave seemed neither honored nor inconvenienced by it. He simply occupied the space with the same controlled silence Starscream remembered from the corridors of the Senate complex.
Sentinel entered the chamber shortly afterward and called the session to order. “The Senate of Cybertron is now in session.”
The chamber quieted.
Starscream watched Ratbat’s platform carefully as Sentinel began moving through the day’s agenda. Trade matters. Mining allocations. Infrastructure approvals. Vos was not mentioned. Not once.
Thundercracker leaned closer over the railing. “That’s strange.”
Starscream nodded slightly. “Yes.”
After Ratbat’s insistence the previous cycle, the absence of any discussion about Vos was notable. Ratbat did not abandon pressure unless another pressure point had become more useful.
Thundercracker frowned. “You think Ratbat gave up?”
Starscream’s optics narrowed as he watched Soundwave standing silently at the Kaonian platform. “No.”
Thundercracker followed his gaze. Soundwave had not spoken once since the session began. He simply observed.
Thundercracker sighed. “I don’t like the quiet ones.”
Starscream continued studying him.
Neither did he.
Because when Ratbat stopped talking about Vos, it usually meant he was planning something else.
The Senate chamber moved through its agenda with unusual efficiency. Without Ratbat’s voice driving the conversation, the debates were shorter, less theatrical, and less tangled in convenient objections. Several proposals passed with barely any argument at all.
Starscream noticed.
He also noticed something else.
Soundwave had not spoken once.
The blue mech stood calmly at the Kaonian platform, reviewing data streams across the console while the Senate continued its business around him. He did not try to fill Ratbat’s absence with performance. He did not argue, embellish, flatter, or redirect. He allowed the chamber to move while he watched it move.
Thundercracker leaned down from the gallery. “He’s not even pretending to be Ratbat.”
Starscream nodded slightly. “Yes.”
Thundercracker frowned. “So where is Ratbat?”
Starscream’s optics remained fixed on Soundwave. “That is an excellent question.”
Below them, Soundwave adjusted the console briefly. For a fraction of a second, his chest compartment shifted slightly as the internal mechanism settled.
No one in the chamber noticed.
No one heard the faint mechanical click.
Starscream did.
The motion was small, almost concealed by the angle of Soundwave’s arm and the shifting light from Ratbat’s platform. But Starscream had seen enough now to understand what he was looking at. The small red-and-black cassette-framed scout Skywarp had described. The one who knew where the arena would be. The one Skywarp had called Frenzy.
Starscream did not know the scout’s name for himself yet, but he knew the shape of the system.
Soundwave had not simply been standing at Ratbat’s platform.
He had been operating.
Ratbat’s platform remained active. Ratbat’s vote remained registered. Ratbat himself was unavailable.
Starscream watched the silent blue mech carefully.
Something had changed.
Ratbat had pushed relentlessly to ground Vos only a cycle earlier. Now his seat was quiet, his arguments gone, his presence reduced to a proxy who spoke nothing at all. And inside that silence, Soundwave’s network continued to move.
Thundercracker followed his gaze again. “You’re doing that thinking thing.”
Starscream nodded. “Yes.”
“That usually means something bad.”
“Not bad.” Starscream continued watching Soundwave. “Different.”
Thundercracker tilted his head. “What does that mean?”
“It means the board just shifted.”
He did not yet know how.
But he knew one thing with certainty.
Ratbat was no longer the one controlling events in Kaon.
Someone else was.
And at the moment, that someone was standing very quietly on Ratbat’s platform.
The Senate chamber had settled into a dull cadence of routine legislation when the doors at the far end opened abruptly. A security officer hurried inside.
That alone was unusual. Enforcers rarely entered the Senate floor during session unless something required the Speaker’s immediate attention. The mech moved quickly toward Sentinel Prime and stopped at the base of the dais.
Sentinel leaned down slightly as the officer spoke quietly.
Whatever was said did not stay quiet for long.
Sentinel’s expression hardened.
Starscream noticed immediately. So did several other senators. The chamber murmured softly as Sentinel straightened.
His voice cut through the room with sharp irritation. “They escaped again.”
The chamber quieted instantly.
Sentinel’s gaze swept across the assembly. “The Kaon enforcement divisions report that the illegal gladiatorial arena relocated before interception.”
A ripple of reaction moved through the chamber.
Sentinel continued, clearly furious. “This is the third time this cycle.”
Starscream leaned slightly forward at his platform.
“The individual known as Megatron remains at large.”
The projection screens behind the dais flickered to life. A blurred image of the mobile arena appeared briefly—rows of modular platforms surrounded by crowds of workers, lights blazing across metal barriers, bodies packed tightly around the combat floor.
Then the image shifted to an empty industrial district.
Gone.
Dismantled.
Sentinel struck the console in frustration. “They construct these arenas overnight, hold their fights, then vanish before enforcement arrives.”
Thundercracker muttered from the gallery above, “Efficient.”
Sentinel continued, his patience clearly gone. “This cannot continue.” He looked across the chamber with open irritation. “Cybertron will not tolerate rogue gladiators turning the industrial sectors into revolutionary gatherings.”
Starscream said nothing.
But his optics flicked briefly toward Ratbat’s platform.
Soundwave stood there silently.
Watching.
Listening.
Unmoved.
Thundercracker leaned over the railing again. “Well.”
Starscream nodded slightly. “Yes.”
The Senate was finally beginning to understand something.
Megatron was not just winning fights.
He was winning time.
And time was exactly what revolutions required.
Sentinel’s frustration echoed through the chamber for several seconds before the murmuring resumed. The security officer withdrew quickly, leaving the Speaker glaring down at the Senate floor.
Starscream leaned back slightly in his platform chair.
Thundercracker watched him from the gallery. “You’re doing that thinking thing again.”
Starscream did not answer immediately. Instead, he watched Soundwave standing quietly at Ratbat’s platform. Still unmoved. Still unaffected by the Speaker’s anger.
Starscream’s mind moved through the information Sentinel had just revealed.
Third arena this cycle.
Enforcement arriving too late every time.
The structures assembled overnight.
Gone before anyone could act.
Starscream reached two conclusions almost instantly.
First, Sentinel was still chasing them. That meant when the next arena appeared in South Kaon in two nights, the Speaker would still be searching blindly through the industrial districts. Starscream would not have to worry about Sentinel arriving first.
Second, Soundwave was ahead of him.
Every time.
Starscream’s optics shifted briefly toward the silent blue mech.
Soundwave had not reacted to Sentinel’s outburst at all, which meant he had already expected it.
Thundercracker noticed where Starscream was looking. “You think he knows something.”
“Yes.”
“That arena keeps moving faster than enforcement can track it.”
“Because enforcement is always reacting.”
Thundercracker tilted his head. “And Soundwave isn’t.”
Starscream allowed the faintest hint of a smile. “No.”
His gaze remained fixed on the Kaonian platform. Soundwave stood perfectly still as the Senate continued arguing around him.
Starscream folded his arms slowly.
Yes.
Soundwave was ahead of Sentinel.
By a considerable margin.
And if Starscream intended to understand what was really happening in Kaon, he would have to stay ahead as well.
Sentinel’s patience finally snapped.
He listened to a few more murmured suggestions from the chamber, then struck the central console with enough force that the sound echoed through the amphitheater. “That is enough.”
The chamber fell silent.
Sentinel’s optics burned with open irritation now. “The Senate continues to debate while the industrial sectors descend into chaos.”
Several senators shifted uncomfortably.
Sentinel did not soften his tone. “Megatron continues to operate illegal arenas across Kaon. The enforcement divisions fail to intercept him. And the Senate wastes cycles discussing procedural responses.”
He looked across the chamber with clear contempt.
“I will not.”
The words hung in the air.
Sentinel turned away from the console. “The Senate session is concluded.”
Several senators blinked in surprise.
Sentinel continued walking toward the exit platform. “I will handle this matter personally.”
A ripple of shocked conversation spread through the chamber.
Thundercracker leaned over the gallery rail. “Well.”
Skywarp appeared along the upper rail with the kind of grin that meant he had either arrived late or had been there the whole time and wanted credit for neither. “This should be entertaining.”
Starscream watched Sentinel leave without saying a word.
The massive doors at the end of the chamber opened. Sentinel Prime strode out with several enforcers moving quickly behind him.
Then the doors closed again.
The Senate floor erupted into conversation.
Starscream remained seated.
Thundercracker called down from the gallery. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Starscream nodded slightly. “Yes.”
“That Sentinel just made things worse.”
Starscream rose slowly from his platform. “CorrectLoop.”
Thundercracker leaned forward. “You planning to tell Megatron the Speaker himself is coming?”
Starscream’s optics shifted briefly toward Ratbat’s platform.
Soundwave was already gone.
Starscream allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile. “No.”
Thundercracker blinked. “Why not?”
Starscream stepped away from his platform. “Because Soundwave already knows.”
The Senate floor dissolved into noise the moment Sentinel left. Clusters of senators began arguing again, some shocked by the Speaker’s outburst, others clearly relieved the session had ended early.
Starscream ignored all of it.
He was already calculating.
Thundercracker dropped down from the gallery railing. “Well,” he said, crossing his arms. “That was dramatic.”
Skywarp appeared beside him with a violet flash. “You see that?”
Thundercracker nodded. “Hard to miss.”
Starscream stepped away from his platform.
Sentinel’s anger had revealed something useful. The Speaker was still chasing the arenas, which meant tonight he would still be hunting them.
Thundercracker noticed the expression on Starscream’s face. “Oh, no.”
Starscream continued toward the Senate exit. “What?”
“You’re still going tonight.”
“Yes.”
Skywarp grinned. “South Kaon. Under the slums.”
Thundercracker frowned. “And now Sentinel is hunting the same thing.”
“Yes.”
“That seems like a problem.”
Starscream did not slow his pace. “No.”
Thundercracker blinked. “What do you mean, no?”
Starscream glanced briefly toward the skyline beyond the Senate complex.
Sentinel was reacting.
Soundwave was not.
“Sentinel is searching,” Starscream said quietly.
Skywarp tilted his head. “And?”
“Soundwave is already ahead of him.”
Skywarp laughed. “Yeah. Frenzy knew exactly where the arena was going to be.”
Starscream stepped into the transport corridor. “Exactly.”
Thundercracker frowned slightly. “You’re assuming Megatron already knows Sentinel is coming.”
“I am not assuming.” Starscream looked back toward the Senate chamber doors one last time. “I am observing a pattern.”
Thundercracker sighed. “That’s usually worse.”
Starscream turned toward the transport lift. “Tonight will be informative.”
Skywarp cracked his knuckles. “Oh, good.”
Thundercracker groaned. “That’s never reassuring.”
The lift began descending toward the launch platforms below.
In a few hours, the arena would appear again. Megatron would be there. Sentinel Prime might be hunting him personally. Soundwave would already have moved pieces into position. Starscream had no intention of arriving late to the lesson.
South Kaon was quieter than Starscream expected when he arrived well before the appointed hour.
The slums district sat beneath the broader industrial levels like a neglected understructure, all rusted walkways, leaning supports, and dim lights flickering across narrow streets. Heat from the factories above bled downward in uneven currents. The air tasted of old fuel, scorched metal, and the stagnant residue of systems repaired only when failure became inconvenient to someone above.
Most of the population had already cleared the area.
That told Starscream more than the silence did.
Word of the arena had spread quickly, and whoever spread it had been selective. The wrong kind of attention had not arrived yet. The right kind had already made room.
Starscream landed on the edge of a collapsed support tower and remained in the shadows. Thundercracker landed beside him, quieter than his frame suggested, optics tracking the surrounding structures. Skywarp was already there, perched on a half-broken beam above the yard with one leg swinging idly over the drop.
“Took you long enough,” Skywarp said.
Thundercracker looked up at him. “We arrived early.”
Skywarp grinned. “I arrived earlier.”
Starscream ignored the exchange.
He watched.
At first there was nothing.
Then the construction began.
Massive transport frames rolled into the open yard below, guided by a group of heavy-built mechs moving with practiced efficiency. Panels unfolded and locked into place with loud metallic clicks. Energy conduits were laid across the ground in clean lines, lighting rigs rose from compact bundles, and barrier segments snapped together with the speed of machinery designed to be temporary without being unstable.
Starscream narrowed his optics.
This was no improvised pit.
This was engineering.
Each mech moved with a specific purpose. One directed assembly with the calm precision of a builder who could see the completed structure before the first panel finished locking. Another hauled massive structural sections into place, his heavy frame taking weight that should have required dedicated machinery. Another welded joints with controlled bursts of energy. One with a crane rig moved between work points, already checking damage stations and emergency access lanes. Others reinforced barriers, secured spectator paths, and marked points that would become exits if the crowd had to scatter quickly.
Starscream studied them carefully.
Green armor.
Purple highlights.
Construction frames built for strength, heavy labor, and practical violence if necessary.
A coordinated team.
Interesting.
One of them suddenly stopped working.
The mech straightened and looked directly toward the shadowed tower where Starscream stood.
Starscream did not move.
The mech spoke without raising his voice. “You can come down, you know.”
Several of the others continued working without even looking up.
Skywarp leaned down from his beam, delighted. “Told you they notice things.”
Thundercracker muttered, “That is not comforting.”
Starscream stepped forward into the dim light and descended from the tower, landing lightly on the edge of the unfinished arena. Thundercracker followed a moment later, landing just behind him. Skywarp vanished from the beam and reappeared at ground level with a violet shimmer, grinning as if he had personally arranged the moment.
The mech who had noticed them approached with a calm, almost friendly expression. His frame was broad but balanced, clearly built for both engineering work and combat if necessary. His optics swept over Starscream once, not rudely, but thoroughly enough to register title, posture, and threat level.
“Starscream, right?”
Starscream regarded him carefully. “Yes.”
The mech extended a hand casually toward the structure behind him. “Scrapper.”
Starscream glanced briefly at the others still assembling the arena. “Your team works quickly.”
“We’ve had practice.”
“And you expected me.”
Scrapper shrugged. “Soundwave said you might show up.”
Starscream’s optics flickered slightly.
Of course he did.
Scrapper gestured toward the nearly completed arena floor. “Megatron likes to know who’s watching.”
Starscream looked over the construction again as the arena structure continued rising piece by piece around them. Panels locked. Energy grids powered up. Crowd barriers slid into place. The entire structure was assembling with incredible speed.
“You built all of this,” Starscream said.
Scrapper nodded once. “Then we take it apart again when the fights are done.”
“A mobile arena.”
Scrapper grinned faintly. “Exactly.”
Behind them, the final support columns slammed into place with a deep metallic boom as the structure locked together. It was not elegant in the way Vos was elegant. It had no long spires, no flight-lane geometry, no cultural vanity folded into its structure.
But it was efficient.
Brutally efficient.
It could appear where the Senate did not expect it, hold a crowd, carry Megatron’s voice, then vanish before Sentinel could put his hands around it. The Senate was looking for locations. Sentinel was hunting an arena as if an arena were a place.
Starscream looked at Scrapper’s team and understood the error.
The arena was not a place.
It was a capability.
Skywarp had fallen into easy conversation with the largest of the green-and-purple mechs, who stared at him with the weary resignation of someone already regretting the exchange.
“See?” Skywarp said to Starscream without looking away from him. “That’s the one I told you about.”
The large mech rumbled, “Why are you still talking to me?”
Skywarp grinned. “Because you keep answering.”
“I haven’t answered anything.”
“That’s an answer too.”
Thundercracker sighed quietly.
Scrapper ignored them both.
Starscream turned back toward the arena as the first early spectators began appearing through side alleys and underwalks, moving with the practiced speed of mechs who knew they had only a narrow window before enforcement swept the wrong district and realized it was empty.
Then, far off, above the industrial haze, an alarm began to sound.
Not here.
Not yet.
Somewhere else.
Sentinel had found another shadow and mistaken it for the source.
Scrapper glanced toward the sound, then returned to his work without concern. “Late.”
Starscream looked at him.
Scrapper tightened one of the final locking braces. “They’re always late.”
The alarm grew sharper in the distance, then shifted direction as enforcement units redirected. Starscream could almost picture Sentinel’s anger as another empty site greeted him. Another set of traces. Another arena gone before he arrived, even though this arena was still assembling somewhere else entirely.
Sentinel was late.
Again.
And everyone here knew it before he did.
Starscream watched the arena finish forming in the center of the slums district.
Now he understood.
This was not just a gladiator fight.
This was infrastructure.
And whoever controlled the builders controlled the movement.