The Senate chamber looked different from the floor.
Starscream noticed that immediately. The elevated platform assigned to the senator of Vos placed him among the upper tiers of the amphitheater, overlooking the central speaking floor far below. Thundercracker and Skywarp were nowhere to be seen; visitors did not sit on the Senate floor. Starscream stood alone.
The chamber was already active when he arrived. Senators spoke quietly among themselves as attendants moved between platforms, preparing the consoles for the session. The low murmur of politics filled the amphitheater with layered sound—measured greetings, restrained arguments, quiet alliances being formed and tested in tones too polished to count as honesty.
Starscream took his seat, and the platform illuminated, recognizing the new senator of Vos. A few nearby senators glanced toward him. Some were curious. Some were irritated. Across the chamber, Ratbat noticed as well. The Kaonian senator watched him for a moment, then returned his attention to the chamber floor.
Starscream did not mistake the dismissal for indifference. Ratbat had watched him long enough to register the problem. For now, that was enough.
Sentinel stepped forward onto the central platform. “The Senate of Cybertron is now in session.”
The chamber quieted.
Starscream remained still, studying the room again. From the visitors’ gallery, the chamber had been designed to overwhelm. From the Senate platform, it revealed a different kind of machinery. Lines of sight. Influence arranged by height. Proximity turned into authority. Every seat, every light, every path through the chamber had been engineered to tell its occupants where they stood before a word was spoken.
Starscream understood design. He understood intention.
He also understood the meaning of an empty platform.
Shockwave’s platform remained vacant. No replacement stood there. No formal announcement had been made. The senator from Tarn had simply ceased to occupy the space the Senate had not yet dared explain.
Starscream’s gaze lingered on that empty platform longer than he intended.
Then Sentinel continued. “The first matter before the Senate concerns civil disturbances within the industrial districts of Kaon.”
Ratbat did not move.
Starscream’s optics shifted slightly as Sentinel gestured and a projection appeared above the chamber floor. Images flickered into view: crowds, industrial workers, security lines, and at the center of them, an arena.
The Kaon gladiatorial pits.
A massive figure stood in the arena, raising his arms as the crowd roared around him. Even through the projection’s slight distortion, there was no mistaking the force of him. He stood as if the arena had been built for the purpose of containing him and had failed.
The recording ended, and Sentinel’s voice returned. “The individual responsible for the current unrest has been identified as a pit gladiator operating within Kaon’s combat arenas.”
A murmur spread through the Senate.
Starscream leaned slightly forward.
“This gladiator has begun drawing increasingly large crowds,” Sentinel continued. “His rhetoric within the arenas has resulted in several labor demonstrations across Kaon’s industrial sectors.”
Starscream glanced toward Ratbat. The Kaonian senator’s expression remained calm.
Too calm.
Sentinel’s voice hardened slightly. “The Senate cannot permit combat arenas to become centers of political agitation.”
The projection shifted. A single image appeared above the chamber floor. The gladiator stood in the center of the arena, energon stains across his armor. His frame was heavy, battle-marked, and unmistakably built for force, but that was not what held the chamber’s attention.
It was the expression.
Fierce. Defiant. Unbowed.
Starscream studied the image carefully.
“This individual calls himself Megatron,” Sentinel said.
The name moved through the chamber like a current.
Megatron.
Starscream filed it away. Not because the Senate feared him, but because the Senate wanted everyone to know it feared him without admitting fear.
Sentinel continued. “I therefore propose that all gladiatorial combat arenas on Cybertron be immediately outlawed.”
The chamber erupted in conversation.
Starscream leaned back slightly in his seat.
Interesting.
The Senate was afraid of a gladiator, and judging by the reaction in the chamber, not all of them agreed with Sentinel’s solution. Starscream’s optics drifted briefly toward Ratbat, then toward the empty platform of Tarn.
Shockwave would have had an opinion about this. Not an emotional one. Not a theatrical one. He would have asked whether outlawing the arenas would actually reduce unrest, whether it would alter the material conditions producing the crowds, whether driving combat below legal visibility would improve stability or merely reduce the Senate’s ability to measure it.
Starscream could almost imagine the projection: numbers, routes, failure probabilities, and an irritatingly correct conclusion.
He returned his attention to the image of the gladiator.
Megatron.
The Senate believed banning the arenas would silence him.
Starscream had already learned something about the Senate. Their solutions rarely worked.
The debate continued for nearly an hour. Senators argued across the chamber about worker unrest, security, and the influence of the gladiatorial arenas. Some called the pits barbaric. Others called them necessary outlets. A few framed them as civic traditions corrupted by agitators. Several used the word stability with the same hollow confidence Altivus had used experience.
Sentinel remained patient at the center platform, allowing the discussion to unfold.
Starscream listened.
But more importantly, he watched.
Ratbat had spoken extensively during the debate about Vos, about energy distribution, about the cost of maintaining aerial cities. He had been smooth, precise, and relentless when Vos was the subject. He had reframed every number Shockwave provided into a question of burden. He had guided the chamber’s attention away from mismanaged allocation and toward the expense of a city he did not represent.
Yet now, as the Senate debated the arenas of Kaon, Ratbat said nothing. He remained seated at his platform, hands folded calmly before him.
Observing.
Starscream leaned back slightly.
That was wrong.
If the Senate was preparing to outlaw the pits of Kaon, Ratbat should be the first senator to speak. The arenas existed in his jurisdiction. The unrest was spreading through his industrial sectors. The gladiator Sentinel had named was gathering crowds among his city’s workers.
Ratbat should have objected. Or defended. Or condemned. Or at least shaped the language of the ban.
Instead, he remained silent.
Thundercracker’s voice crackled softly across Starscream’s private comm. “Well?”
Starscream kept his optics on Ratbat. “Observe the senator from Kaon.”
A pause. “I see him,” Thundercracker said, sounding puzzled. “He has not said a word.”
Starscream’s answer was quiet. “Yes.”
A moment later, another voice joined the channel.
Skywarp.
“So you want me to do something about that?”
Starscream did not look away from the Senate floor. “Yes.”
Skywarp chuckled softly. “Finally.”
“Investigate the gladiatorial arenas in Kaon,” Starscream said calmly.
“Oh, I like this assignment already.”
“Do not get arrested before you learn something useful.”
“No promises.”
Starscream ended the transmission. Below him, the debate was coming to a close.
Sentinel stepped forward again. “The Senate will now vote on the proposed prohibition of gladiatorial combat arenas across Cybertron.”
Voting consoles illuminated across the chamber.
Starscream activated his own. He did not hesitate.
Against.
The Senate could outlaw the arenas if it wished. It would not erase Megatron. It would not erase the crowds. It would not erase the unrest in Kaon’s industrial districts or whatever grievance had brought workers to the arena gates in the first place. It would only drive the pits deeper underground.
And underground movements were harder to measure, harder to watch, and harder to control.
That made the ban ineffective.
Worse, it made it stupid.
A moment later, the results appeared above the Senate floor.
FOR THE BAN: 71%
AGAINST: 29%
Sentinel’s voice carried through the chamber. “The motion passes.”
A murmur spread through the amphitheater.
“All gladiatorial combat arenas on Cybertron are hereby outlawed.”
The projection of the gladiator flickered once more above the chamber.
Megatron.
Then it vanished.
Starscream leaned back slightly in his seat. The Senate believed it had solved the problem.
It had not.
Because if Ratbat truly opposed the pits, he would have fought the ban. If he supported them, he would have voted against it openly or shaped opposition. If he feared Megatron, he would have argued from security.
Instead, the senator of Kaon had allowed the motion to pass.
And that meant the real story of the pits had not yet been revealed.
The Senate session adjourned shortly after the vote. Senators departed in clusters, their conversations echoing through the wide corridors of the complex. Starscream stepped away from his platform. For the first time since entering the chamber as senator of Vos, the building no longer felt like restricted territory.
Now it was simply his workplace.
Thundercracker’s voice crackled across his private comm. “Well, Senator, how was your first vote?”
Starscream stepped into the main corridor outside the chamber. “Predictable.”
Thundercracker chuckled. “I figured.”
Starscream paused.
Across the hall, Ratbat was leaving the chamber. The Kaonian senator moved through the corridor surrounded by a small group of aides.
And beside him was the blue mech.
Starscream slowed. There was no mistaking him now. Deep blue armor. A squared frame. Precise, controlled movements. The same figure Starscream had seen earlier during the search for Shockwave.
Ratbat spoke quietly as they walked. The blue mech said nothing.
Starscream watched them disappear down the corridor.
Thundercracker’s voice returned. “You still there?”
“Yes.” Starscream turned toward the Senate archive wing. “I have a question that requires answering.”
The archive terminals recognized his Senate credentials immediately.
Access granted.
Starscream entered a short search query.
SENATE PERSONNEL: RATBAT
A list of staff assignments appeared: advisors, security officers, communications specialists.
Starscream’s optics narrowed slightly.
There.
The blue mech’s designation appeared in the record.
Soundwave.
Starscream opened the file.
AFFILIATION: KAON SENATORIAL OFFICE
FUNCTION: INFORMATION ANALYST / COMMUNICATIONS SPECIALIST
Starscream leaned back slightly.
Interesting.
Thundercracker spoke again through the comm. “Find what you’re looking for?”
Starscream watched the file scroll across the screen. “Yes.”
Thundercracker waited.
Starscream spoke the name aloud. “Soundwave.”
A brief pause followed before Thundercracker finally said, “Never heard of him.”
Starscream closed the record. “He works for Ratbat.”
Thundercracker sounded unimpressed. “That explains why he looks miserable.”
Starscream turned away from the terminal. “No.”
Thundercracker blinked over the comm. “No?”
Starscream stepped back into the corridor. “That explains why he was watching the Senate floor.” A moment passed. “And why he was present when Shockwave disappeared.”
Thundercracker was quiet for a moment. “Well.” He exhaled slowly. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Starscream looked down the long corridor where Ratbat and Soundwave had gone.
“No.”
It did not.
Starscream returned to the archive terminal. The corridor outside the chamber had begun to empty as the session ended, leaving the record wing quiet.
He entered the query without hesitation.
SENATE MEMBER: SHOCKWAVE
The system responded immediately. A profile appeared on the display.
Shockwave
City-State: Tarn
Status: Served
Starscream’s optics narrowed.
Served.
Not serves.
He opened the file. The profile contained almost nothing. Basic identification. Former Senate seat. Term concluded. No current status. Starscream scrolled further.
The historical entries stopped abruptly.
No record of suspension.
No disciplinary action.
No removal order.
No transfer.
Shockwave’s presence in the Senate simply… ended.
Starscream leaned slightly closer to the screen.
Impossible.
Even senators removed from office left a trail in the system: charges, votes, official proceedings. There was always a record.
Here, there was nothing.
Starscream ran the search again. The result did not change.
Shockwave
City-State: Tarn
Status: Served
As though the senator from Tarn had simply finished his term and departed quietly.
Starscream sat back slowly.
Thundercracker’s voice came across the comm. “You still digging through records?”
“Yes.”
Thundercracker waited.
“Shockwave no longer exists in the Senate system,” Starscream said finally.
A pause. “What?”
“The records state that he served as senator of Tarn.”
Thundercracker sounded confused. “That’s not wrong.”
“It is incomplete.” Starscream highlighted the entry. “The system now claims his service has concluded.”
Another pause followed before Thundercracker spoke slowly. “…but it didn’t.”
Starscream shut down the terminal. “No.”
He stepped back into the corridor.
The Senate building was quieter now. Almost peaceful. Which made the discovery worse, because records did not erase themselves, and senators did not simply disappear.
Starscream looked down the corridor where Ratbat and Soundwave had walked earlier. Someone had removed Shockwave from the Senate. From the records. From the system.
His optics hardened slightly.
Which meant someone was trying very hard to ensure no one asked what had happened to him.
Starscream stepped back from the archive terminal.
Shockwave.
City-State: Tarn.
Status: Served.
The word lingered in his thoughts.
Served.
Not serving. Not suspended. Not removed.
Served.
A completed entry for an unfinished disappearance.
Thundercracker’s voice came across the private channel. “You’re telling me they just… erased him?”
Starscream turned toward the corridor. “Yes.”
A third voice cut into the channel.
Skywarp.
“Wow.” A brief pause followed. Then Skywarp added casually, “That’s impressive.”
Thundercracker groaned. “You’re not helping.”
Skywarp continued anyway. “So let me get this straight. The senator named Shockwave disappears…” Another pause. “And the only guy hanging around Ratbat is named Soundwave.”
Thundercracker sighed. “Oh no.”
Skywarp chuckled. “What?” Then he delivered the line. “Maybe they’re related.”
Thundercracker rubbed his face. “That’s not how names work.”
Starscream did not respond immediately. Instead, he glanced once more at the terminal.
Shockwave.
Soundwave.
The similarity had not escaped him.
But coincidence was not evidence.
Starscream shut down the archive console. “No.”
Thundercracker relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”
Starscream stepped into the corridor. “But it is another connection.”
Thundercracker stopped walking. “…You’re kidding.”
Skywarp sounded pleased. “Oh, I like this game.”
Starscream’s optics moved down the long hall of the Senate complex. Shockwave had vanished. Ratbat’s assistant had been present when it happened. And the records had already been altered.
“We are missing something,” Starscream said quietly.
Skywarp laughed softly. “Yeah. We’re missing the part where someone explains what actually happened Toggle.”
Starscream looked back once more toward the Senate archives.
Yes.
They were.
The three of them continued down the quiet corridor outside the Senate archive wing. Starscream was already thinking through the problem again. Shockwave had been erased from the Senate system. That meant the trail inside the political network was closed.
Thundercracker broke the silence. “Let me ask something.”
Starscream glanced toward him. “What?”
Thundercracker shrugged slightly. “Wasn’t Shockwave some kind of scientist? I mean before he got into politics.”
Starscream stopped walking. “Yes.”
Shockwave’s research work was widely known in Tarn. Not only known. Respected. Starscream had read Shockwave’s work during his own Science Directorate years, not because it was required, but because it was impossible to do serious high-energy systems research without eventually colliding with his name. Shockwave’s papers were not elegant in the way Vosian academic circles preferred. They did not flatter the reader. They simply placed data on the table and expected lesser interpretations to die.
Starscream remembered three clearly.
On Energon Transfer Efficiency in High-Load Systems.
Dry title. Brilliant conclusions. It had mapped loss points in industrial energy transfer with enough precision that half the Directorate had spent a cycle pretending the implications were not politically inconvenient.
Field Harmonics in Subspace Conduction.
Dense, difficult, and far more useful than the abstract title suggested. Starscream had read it twice, then hated that he needed to read it a third time to fully appreciate the modeling.
And then—
Theoretical Limits of Energon Compression.
The kind of paper that made cautious scientists uncomfortable and ambitious scientists furious they had not written it first.
Shockwave had not been a ceremonial senator placed in a platform for appearance. He had been one of the finest analytic minds on Cybertron.
Thundercracker spread his hands. “Then why are we looking in Senate files?”
Skywarp tilted his head. “Oh.”
Thundercracker continued, “If the Senate wiped his political records, that doesn’t mean they wiped everything.”
Starscream’s optics narrowed slightly. Shockwave had not been chosen as senator of Tarn by accident. Before entering politics, he had been one of the most respected scientific minds on Cybertron. A brilliant theoretician. A dangerous one, if the wrong mech disliked the conclusions.
Starscream turned back toward the archive terminal. “Scientific institutions maintain independent record systems.”
Thundercracker smiled slightly. “Exactly.”
Starscream entered a new search.
RESEARCH DIRECTORATE: SHOCKWAVE
This time, the system responded immediately. A list of publications appeared: research files, laboratory affiliations, facility assignments.
Starscream opened the first entry.
Shockwave
Research Division: Advanced Energon Physics
Primary Laboratory: Tarn Research Complex
Starscream leaned slightly closer to the screen.
Another entry appeared beneath it.
Secondary Facility: Iacon Science Directorate — Experimental Laboratory Wing
Skywarp looked over his shoulder. “So…” He grinned. “You wanna go look at his lab?”
Starscream shut down the terminal. “Yes.”
Thundercracker folded his arms. “That seems like the obvious next step.”
Starscream stepped back into the corridor. “If Shockwave was working on anything significant before entering the Senate…” He paused. “…the records will be there.”
Skywarp cracked his knuckles. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
Thundercracker sighed. “Every time you say that, things get worse.”
Starscream started toward the exit of the Senate complex. Shockwave had been erased from the political system. But scientists left something behind that politicians rarely understood.
Records.
Experiments.
Ideas.
And somewhere in Shockwave’s work, there might be a clue explaining why the Senate had removed him so completely.