𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 (𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔)

Chapter 11: Small Tasks

(Cecilia's POV)

'YES, YES, YES, YES, YES!!!'

Femme, what are you so joyous about? -L

Oops. I forgot I have a few other thoughts in my head. Gotta keep it cool for now. I'll tell him when I see him in person. Well, person and Cybertronian.

'Nothing. I'm just happy.'

I will never understand you, humans. -L

I felt him drift away from my mind. Even if he did say that, I knew he was only joking. A smile appeared on my face once more. I turned my attention to the mech who was carrying me and asked some questions. Breakdown answered the best he could but it was enough for me. Now, I got the basics down.

The datapad kind of works like a tablet. But without any apps or stuff like that. It was only a blank screen and used for writing. But it can be saved in files. When I found out about that ability, I took notes on what Breakdown had explained to me.

He was a gentle mech. I sat in the center of his palm as he walked. His optic kept flickering at me. It seems like he didn't want to crush me or let me fall off. He was awkward when I asked him questions about the purple symbol that everyone I saw on the ship has.

He told me that it was their group emblem. I nodded and wrote that down, I even made a quick sketch of the emblem beside my notes. We stopped in from of a door, just as Breakdown turned on his comm, the door slid open to reveal Soundwave. He nodded at Breakdown and used a tentacle that has a claw at the end to grab me by the back of my shirt.

I waved at Breakdown and he did as so to me. The door closed and Soundwave turned around and walked over to a huge console with one large screen right above the keyboard and smaller sized monitors surrounding them. I held the datapad close as he gently lowered me down beside the glowing keyboard.

My eyes swept over the glyphs that were etched on the keyboard. The keys were larger than normal keyboards. These ones are as big as my palm.

Soundwave continued what he was doing before I entered, which was decoding some files. The dialect on the keyboard is what I was used to seeing. But I couldn't precisely read what was on the screen.

I decided to write down the translation of each phrase that the purple mech got correct. I sat facing the screen in a way that I could also get a look at the keyboard. I wrote as fast as I could. Some of them looked a bit different from the actual one but hey, I tried.

When I forgot how to write a certain glyph, I felt like I was being watched. I nervously looked up and saw Soundwave staring at me, well I assumed he is. His visor was looking at my direction anyway. He seemed to look at me for a moment then his visor moved the tiniest bit down at the datapad I was holding.

One of his tentacles moved near me and pointed at the tablet. Does he want to see what I'm doing?

I gave him the datapad and watched as he brought it up to his visor. It lit a glowing green color, In guessing that he was scanning it. After a while, he lowered it down and I could see that some of them were red. I tilt my head.

He used one finger and traced the correct way to write the glyph. It turned green. I blinked. The way he wrote it was way better than the previous one I did.

He erased the one that he did and pointed at me. I took the datapad in my hands and looked at him. He gave a reassuring nod.

I used the stylus to write the same way as he did. It turned green. Feeling accomplished, I turned my head up and smiled at him. To my surprise, a smiley face emoji appeared on his visor. He used one finger to pat my head gently.

"Soundwave: Proud of human femme"

- - -

(Normal POV)

Cecilia just finished taking notes on the fourth text that was shown on the screen when she yawned. She paused her writing to rub her eyes. She looked around. What time was it? She remembered when Knockout first brought her (More like kidnapped her) to the Nemesis, it was in the middle of the night.

She blinked in surprise. With everything that just happened, she lost track of time. Though that didn't happen rarely. She used to read books until around three to four in the morning. She was used to it. But after being captured and brought to a warship filled with aliens, it was obvious that she was tired.

She must have dozed off at some point because when she opened her eyes, she was being carried by someone. She was laying on her side in a fetal position. All that she saw in front of her was the color purple before she fell asleep again.

Soundwave walked silently towards his quarters. He heard the human femme yawn in his office and quickly did some research. Apparently, humans need more rest than Cybertronians do. And that was nine to ten hours a day. The healthy hour for a human to sleep was at 8 p.m. to 6 in the morning.

The current time was 4.27 a.m.

Behind his visor, he raised an optic ridge in confusion. Normal humans would pass out at this point, but her charge was still aware. He made a note to make her sleep by 8 or 9 p.m.

His optics fell on the sleeping human who was curled up in his hand. She fell asleep on his keyboard and he decided to not leave her there and bring her to his berthroom instead. He subspaced the datapad and stylus that she was holding and picked her up carefully.

Once she was on his servo he noticed that she was shivering. He brought his servo close to his chassis and she immediately moved closer to the heat that his spark was emitting. She gave a content sigh and was quiet since then.

He could help but feel protective of her. He felt like he saw her somewhere, but it is concluded as a negative. He checked his memory banks and found no evidence of ever meeting her. She reminds him of someone he knew in the past. Her personality, her behavior, even how she looked.

But that was when Cybertron was still alive. Now it's an empty and lifeless planet out there in the galaxy.

He shook his head. There was a small chance that this was- she was a coincidence. Looking down at her small form once again, he used a digit to gently pat her head.

No one would harm his charge. Not when he could stop it. But if they did then...

. . .

. . .

. . .

Beware of the silent ones.