Author Note: This is my first fanfic. I'm open for critiques (story plot or technical points), suggestions, and any kind of feedback except flames. Also anyone who wants to help me beta read this story, please send me a PM. Thankies!

Disclaimer: Soundwave and Ratbat belongs to HasTak and their respective... err... owner, writer, maker... I own nothing but the plot bunny.

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Just like the moon, Cybertron has two sides. The northern part is dominated by the light of its landmark, the prosperous hub-capital of Cybertron, Iacon. Science and religion are harmoniously supporting the mechanoid community, pushing life towards positivism and growth. Life is bright there.

Its counterpart, the southern pole, is dominated by shadows. The city-state of Kaon is famous, too. Infamous for the criminal rate, this city was so cramped with lowlifes, scavengers, thugs, and the inadequate. Hard to predict and unsafe in every inch of its territory, Kaon would be the last of every Cybertronian's list to have a life in. Life sucks here.

Living in the high and prestigious towers of Iacon is only one of the conveniences of his present position. He's a Senator; grandeur and wealth is not unusual for him. Power abundant and a sheer perfectionist, accompanied by the sharpest of tongue, he was everything one could expect from a terror boss-mech without the excessive chassis (equals to a fatty tummy in organics).

After throwing a signed datapad towards his thankful subordinate, Ratbat stomped into his workroom, looking for some time of silence. His internals whirred quietly; humming while fanning the overheating circuits. He had enough maltreatment for today; enough imperfections staining his grandiose plans for the city; enough construction delays; enough deficit funding; unpaid taxes... Primus knows there are so many defects to spin away the screws which stuck his CPU to sanity.

The so-called assistants are only hindrances; taking him down slowly by their incompetence. But he cannot deny the truth; he won't manage alone. And the other fact is; there is no one who could satisfy his demand for perfection, up until now. After years of disappointment, Ratbat had managed a list of things he'd expect from an ideal assistant. If there's no such thing accessible, he'd have to make one himself.

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Charity event, while true to its cause for those in need; is not a very interesting affair. Consisted of important people and donator, it was a very formal, dull, and monotonous occasion; so full of elegance that there is nothing besides eating with gracefulness and empty-boastful chats. After all, what can you expect from a bunch of image-loving people? The nature of politics tends to kill characters of the people involved.

Setting his optics away from the applauding crowds, the Senator finished his speech and went down the podium. Familiar faces went around him so quickly unnoticed; a new object of interest had found its place in his vision.

A little boy drew the attention of the people surrounding him, lining vast amount of donated toys in a precise order of size; from the biggest RC Copter to the smallest rubber ball are all present in one long beeline. Ratbat must tell that it was impressive; even more than any elaborate report his assistants ever gave him.

Unable to resist his curiosity, the Senator approached the crowd, wanting to look closely at the tiny anomaly before the nanny-bot get to him. The flawlessness of the order is not the only point why he is interesting, but the constant, unbreakable focus towards one's duty that perked this elder mech's inquisitiveness.

The perfect traits located.

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Arranging the blue youngling's adoption wasn't hard; almost menial, he'd say. While his position held no effect on the whole process, the young one's uncaring acceptance helped most of the time. That little blip only cared for his line; his perfect, orderly row of toy soldiers.

The only thing mattered was that the administration was settled, so the Senator could take him home and start the... home-schooling session. So he stood, shook the nanny-bot's hand, and stood beside the little blue youngling while the nanny introduced the new foster-creator to the young mech.

Well, she tried.

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Having a seat right beside the bizarre kid proved to be a great displeasure. Even in his private cab, with the bullet-proof shields running, and his trained chauffeur driving, the mech couldn't resist the restlessness. He could feel it.

Transparent, imaginary hands of telepathy are probing his head, looking inside his mind effortlessly. The ghostly visage penetrated his erected firewalls like it wasn't even there, powerful, eerie, yet gentle and soothing like night wind.

The Senator instantly shifted his gaze from the clouds beyond his window to the red visor of a certain blue and white youngling. Their gazes met; the younger mech didn't flinch before the intense anger Ratbat sent through his stern optics.

"Quit it!" Ratbat made his vicious intentions clear while mentally slapped the imaginary hands, "Or I'll make you." Threat had been voiced and understood. The silent telepath retracted his powers with his visor still locked on Ratbat's vision hardware.

"Good. Now sit quietly like any good, normal kid behaves," Ratbat continued, raising his index finger to tell the kid that it was an order, not some preach. The kid obediently followed. "I will explain the rules in my house, and you will listen."

"You will never use your power against me," the Senator added, "I will personally punish you if I ever felt you probing inside my head."

"You will not beg, plea, cry, throw a hissy fit, tantrum, or anything exhibiting childish behavior. I trust you are old enough to know what's proper and what's not. Understood?"

A slight nod was the answer he needed, and expected. "One more thing. You will keep your... 'specialty' hidden until I said otherwise." The Senator received another agreement, and finally said, "And don't call me Daddy. Call me Senator Ratbat. Do you understand, Soundwave?"

"Acknowledged, Senator." A harmonic voice called out, so robotic, computerized, and heartless that shivers ran down Ratbat's circuits. "Your rules and statements had been recorded and completely comprehended. I will not let you down."

Just in time the cab reached the lobby of the apartment in which Ratbat resides. "Perfect, Soundwave. I won't expect anything less from my prospective little assistant."