Chapter Text
Amber loved her job.
Really, it was the best on so many levels. She got to interact with aliens, had access to extremely classified government secrets, excellent security, pretty good health insurance, great pay, and, literally, she spent all her time on social media.
It was her job to keep the Cybertronians hidden.
Anytime one of their ships broke the atmosphere, she hacked into satellites and looped the readings so the data appeared normal, and directed the observatories to look elsewhere. Anytime they got into a battle near a human population, she covered it up with a car crash or a fallen tree. Anytime there was a sighting and some human caught a photo and posted it on social media, Amber isolated their post so it reached no one and hushed it up, adding the human to the watchlist for other agents to handle.
It was a full-time gig. As in, she’d had to create an algorithm that monitored the whole internet and would wake her up in the middle of the night so she’d catch anything before it had spread. She’d learned to wake up quickly to that annoying alarm and power herself up with sugar drinks before getting to work.
She covered up both Autobot and Decepticon appearances, because humanity would flip out if they knew about either. The Decepticons were ironically slightly better at staying hidden, because of how they seemed to, occasionally, put effort into covering their tracks. Amber could almost appreciate it, if it weren’t for the whole world-domination thing.
Of course, she’d never actually met any Cybertronian, Autobot or Decepticon. That was reserved for Agent Fowler and a few other select people. It was ironic, really. She had a whole drive that documented every single Transformer sighting ever on the internet, and yet, for all she knew, it could be some elaborate hoax. The most Cybertronian interaction she’d gotten was being on voice-only calls with an Autobot, usually Ratchet and twice Optimus, giving updates on her work, but she never had video calls or got to meet them in person.
That was fine. Amber knew things on the field could get…well, inhospitable for fleshy small beings that couldn’t withstand lasers and giant metal aliens stomping around.
She just enjoyed her life of telling her friends and family that she was in PR, surfing through social media and flexing her hacking skills, and keeping up with the Autobot-Decepticon conflict from afar like it was some kind of celebrity drama magazine, updates filling up her computer as she slurped smoothies and way too much coffee. She lived the life of going into her ‘office’ (just for show, because she could technically work from anywhere so long as she had her computer), and delighting in the fancy-government facility’s elaborate gym with rock-climbing walls and Olympic-sized pools. She splurged her huge paycheck on the newest tech, and chuckled at wild online alien conspiracy theories before purposely derailing them with even crazier claims and fake evidence.
What more could a girl want?
Well, she had to be careful, because she couldn’t have close friends who might look into her job too closely. Or really commit to any social event, because she had to be able to drop everything at any time to eliminate any pop-up of Cybertronian activity on the internet. And she could never really be fully truthful with anyone she cared about.
But that was the deal. She’d made it, she’d done the trade, and she’d known what she’d been getting into.
She just hadn’t expected how lonely it would be.
Perhaps that’s what led her to a stupid, reckless, overconfident decision one day.
“Oh, hello,” she murmured around her straw, as she watched a social media account she’d been about to isolate start to collapse. A group of hikers had stumbled to the entrance of an energon mine, and had been curiously poking around and taking videos of the odd glowing blue rocks, the weirdly large minecart at the entrance of a cave, and the creepy noises coming from within. Thankfully, no Cybertronians came out, and the hikers were too afraid to go further.
Normally, Amber would cut off the post from anyone seeing it, and create some fake news story about how the place was an experimental mining facility or they were filming a movie there, and then, after the ‘Bots had cleared it of Decepticons, send some fellow agents to clean up the area or at least block it off.
But right now, the information was disappearing on its own. Neatly, cleanly, and setting up firewalls and filters so that the data couldn’t be posted again. Not the approach Amber would’ve made, but she couldn’t have done a smoother job herself. Her personalized computer system was meant to pick up on this sort of suspicious web activity, so while any other run-of-the-mill hacker would be kicked out or caught by the other one, she watched the data erase itself real-time in front of her.
This must be Soundwave, Amber thought with a spark of excitement. The Decepticon Communications and Surveillance Officer, the one who hardly ever left the Decepticon warship. He covered up Cybertronians on the human internet, too. Amber had seen his work before, but usually after the fact. The neat clippings and under-code he left behind like unidentifiable footprints on a beach. Now, witnessing it, she could see him doing several things at once. She watched on one of her side screens as he hacked into the hikers’ phones and adjusted their GPS maps so it looked like they had been in a different area. He tweaked the local trail guides to direct humans elsewhere. Very thorough. Very clean.
On a ridiculous, curious impulse, Amber set her fingers on her keyboard and began to work her magic. She connected to the hikers’ phones and sculpted a news report about an old mine-theme party for kids from ages ago that had been in the area, and set it up so that the report would appear on their phones the next time they checked the news or anything local.
The moment she touched the web, though, Soundwave’s work paused.
She smiled as she continued nonchalantly, like she didn’t even know he was there. It sent a thrill through her. Somewhere, in the sky, on the other side of this screen, was an alien being far bigger than her, watching her work.
She continued, and Soundwave did nothing. Perhaps she’d scared him off—wouldn’t that be funny. The big bad ‘Con chased off by a little ol’ human.
She was backing up the dates and the reporter names in the article when there was a ping on one of her monitors. She glanced to the side. Someone was trying to hack her.
She gave a lopsided grin in the dark room. She’d seen plenty of Cybertronian technology, she was even on the team of humans that examined it. Her computer was a fortress of ones and zeroes, virtual vibranium.
She kept working, keeping half an eye on the continued attempts as the hacker—undoubtedly Soundwave—tried several different methods and angles to get through.
She wondered if she should resort to one of her favorite tricks—the decoy. A few other enemy-government forces or freelance hackers had tried to tap into her system in the past. Her best counter was to set up a fake computer with fake information, then trick the attacker’s computer and make it look like they’d gotten into hers. When they thought they’d gotten what they’d came for, they moved on, disappointed and disinterested.
Would Soundwave fall for that?
Hm, maybe with a tweak.
As Soundwave clawed at her outer firewalls, Amber adjusted part of her system, adding an internal array of security around some inconsequential information. She made it look like a personal computer that had collected a small handful of blurry Cybertronian photos and videos (though far more than any Cybertronian would want a random human to have), and even set up an easy and fake way to crash the system. After hiding everything else as thoroughly and securely as she could, she allowed a crack to appear in her main firewall, and retreated to the inner mainframe as Soundwave immediately pounced on the weakness and tore through.
Just like that, he was in her system.
Amber’s fingers drummed on her desk anxiously, and she glanced up to make sure her face-cameras were covered. Just to be safe.
The fake system showed on just one of her monitors. She watched the screen as it displayed the data she’d set up for the trick, windows and files opening one after the other, the intruder zooming through the information at a dizzying speed, before stopping abruptly as Soundwave seemed to hit the end.
There was a pause, and she wondered what he would do next. Delete the information? Crash the computer? Leave behind a virus to spy on her?
Nothing happened for a minute. Amber glanced at the other screen that showed he was still connected. Lag? Or had something else occupied him in the real world, and he was AFK? He wasn’t hacking further into her system, he wasn’t tracking down her location or anything.
Amber drummed her fingers some more. Just as she was about to poke around and see if she could kick him out in a way that looked like the system crashed, the cursor—controlled by him—moved to open up a new blank document. And then a message was written in it.
[Interesting trick.]
Amber froze, her fingers half-suspended over her desk.
[Who are you?]
She hesitated. This seemed like a trap. But as far as he knew, she was just some random human, who didn’t even know he was a giant alien robot.
Well, technically she didn’t know this was him for sure, but she’d seen Soundwave’s work before and the Autobots had confirmed it when she had forwarded them the minimal evidence.
She hesitated, eyes flicking down to the keyboard before her and then up at the words on the screen. How long would he wait? Did he know for certain she was watching, or had he just laid out bait to make sure?
The number one rule amongst hackers was to keep their IRL identities secret at all costs. And one of the big rules when she’d been hired for this job was that she wasn’t supposed to interact with any Cybertronian without prior approval—especially Decepticons. Even her scheduled meetings with Ratchet where short, clipped, and perfunctory.
But as she stared at the words, an alien life form right there, after following Cybertronians for years and never being truly seen or recognized until now…
Well. Amber did have a little drop of chaos in her. All hackers did.
She linked herself to the document and started typing.
[Don’t you know it’s rude to hack into someone else’s computer?]
Though she had made him wait a while, his response to her was immediate.
[And it’s hypocritical to scold someone of a crime you’ve committed yourself.]
Amber smiled. [Ah, you’ve seen me create a fake article and link it to their phones—I didn’t technically do anything illegal. That you’ve seen, anyway.]
(That could be debated, but she doubted Soundwave knew/cared about human information and cybersecurity laws).
She gnawed on her bottom lip. Hopefully he hadn’t seen anything, anyway. Unless he’d gotten more information on her than she’d thought.
[Point,] Soundwave typed under her line. He then changed his font to something more classical. It wasn’t much of a difference, but it clearly separated his text from hers. [But with firewalls like that, you obviously have experience with breaking into other systems. Like knows like.]
Well, she couldn’t argue with that.
[Why were you covering up what the humans saw?] Soundwave asked next.
She tapped a finger on her mouse for a moment before responding. [Didn’t think it’d be good if those hikers or other people inspected that place more closely and stumbled on a bunch of angry extraterrestrials.]
[They would not have been pursued. And either way, I had it handled.]
[And you would have created and linked that article?]
For the first time, his response wasn’t instantaneous. Amber smiled again. [I thought not.]
[It had not occurred to me.]
[It’s a nice touch, though, don’t you think?] Was she seriously looking for approval from an alien invader? Maybe. Oh, she’d be seriously reprimanded if her bosses found out about any of this. That was part of the advantage of having a highly classified job, though. Few people knew what she did and could check her work, so it was easy to cover things up.
[Indeed. You seem to have experience in Cybertronian media presence.]
Uh oh. He was getting a little personal now.
Amber debated in her response for a moment, her first idea being an evasive ‘I dabble,’ but decided to turn the tables on him.
[So do you. You even know their name, apparently.]
That implied, but did not confirm, that she hadn’t known the name of the Cybertronians. She wondered if he was berating himself on the other side of the screen for the slip.
[I know you have more than this,] Soundwave just said, confessing nothing else. [Show me.]
[Haven’t you ever heard the rule about not sharing personal information over the internet with strangers?] she typed with a smirk, knowing he probably hadn’t.
There was another long pause.
After a few seconds, he said, [Then let’s be friends.]
Her mouth fell open. Did he really think it was that simple? No, he wasn’t stupid, he probably just thought she was and was gullible enough to believe him. She didn’t know whether to laugh at his audacity or be offended that he thought she would fall for that.
It took her a full minute to even think of a response. [Hackers don’t really have friends.]
[Only if they don’t make them.] An image suddenly appeared on the document; a fairly high-quality picture of Optimus Prime, mid-stride in a forest, his gaze thoughtfully towards the sky. His head was just a few feet lower than the pine trees behind him, and the lower angle of the picture really made his colossal height stand out. Yet still, something about the tone of the photo reminded Amber of a majestic, if much more average, stag walking through the woods. [Now you show me something.]
Again, she bit her lip. This had gotten so unexpectedly weird, but she was also intrigued as to where it would go. The photos she’d used for original bait for him had just been blurry pictures, mostly of vehicons, one of Knockout, two of Bumblebee with Bulkhead partially in the frame.
She browsed her options for another minute while Soundwave waited. Then she selected a photo of Arcee, the blue ‘Bot mid-leap against two vehicons, her face pulled in a snarl of fury and combat. It was a pretty awesome photo, actually. Amber had been kind of sorry when she’d seen it and known it couldn’t be shown to anyone else. Except, well, now it was.
[I’m not handing over all my stuff,] she said as she plopped it into the document. [Even if you give me yours. I didn’t ask for it, I don’t owe you.]
[Nice one,] Soundwave responded quickly about the photo, and then immediately typed to her message, [But wouldn’t we accomplish more together than apart?] Soundwave was lucky some humans could type really fast, because he clearly wasn’t trying to imitate the typical human type-rate. [You’re good. You have things I haven’t caught. I certainly have things you don’t know about. Why pass that up?]
He was reaaaaally inflating her ego here. And the funny part was, it was working. She couldn’t squash down the smile on her face, even as she typed her argument back.
{We don’t know anything about each other. Therefore, we can’t trust each other.]
[I am Soundwave.]
Amber froze again. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.
[My codename, obliviously,] he added after a pause.
Amber stared, and then shook her head incredulously, almost laughing aloud. What was he thinking?Using his real name as a codename? Or was he trying to cover up a mistake? It made her brain twist in knots trying to figure it out.
[How does a codename change the fact that we can’t trust each other?] she asked. If anything, it solidified her point.
[Friends know each other’s names, right?] he shot back.
Amber thumped back in her chair, crossing her arms. She debated for a long moment—but what harm was an old codename she hadn’t used in years, really? The good part about so many people on the internet was that every possible name got used a dozen times.
[Fine. You can call me Void.] It was an old alias she’d used in college, but had long since dropped when she got a real job.
[Void,] he confirmed. [Why are you seeking Cybertronian information?]
[Who wouldn’t?] she shot back. [They’re incredible. Do you have some grand ulterior motive?] she asked mischievously, knowing she was tossing him his own cover story.
[No, same as you,] he said. [Then why are you hiding it? Why not expose this information?]
[I’m pretty sure some form of government already knows,] she said vaguely. Then she paused, thinking fast. [If the public knew about them, it would probably cause conflict. It’s best to avoid that.]
[A-Void?] he typed.
Amber’s face went blank for a moment, not understanding what he meant.
Then it hit her and she burst out laughing.
[Oh, ha-ha, very funny.]
Did a Decepticon really just tell a joke? About her? Was this what all of the ‘Cons were like, or just Soundwave? The Autobots were completely serious whenever she talked to them.
[Alright, jokester,] she wrote, still suppressing her smile. [How about this?]
She sent him one of her favorite videos ever. It was one of the few she had of Starscream. Some kids had been filming the cool ‘military jets’ in the sky doing crazy maneuvers, but had gotten a real surprise when the three planes lurched upwards and shifted midair, warping into three giant robots that landed on a nearby cliff, ignorant of the humans. As if the suppressed screams and swears of the kids on the other side of the phone weren’t hilarious enough, Starscream had apparently miscalculated the strength of his perch. The rock crumbled under his foot (pede?) and he floundered back, waving his long-fingered arms wildly as he stumbled several steps and almost fell onto his backside. He regained his balance and flapped his wings, flustered, glaring at the vehicons behind them as if daring them to ever speak of this again.
When Amber had found that video, she’d laughed herself sick. She still smiled now, several months later.
There was a pause; Soundwave didn’t immediately respond.
Amber’s smile dropped. She might’ve just seriously messed up. That was a compromising video of the Decepticons—Soundwave could be offended. And an offended ‘Con could do anything out of anger, he could track her down, oh God—
A video suddenly appeared in the document.
Amber hesitated. She had strong firewalls to detect and protect against viruses, but could she really risk…?
Her anxiety made her click it like she was checking for a bomb.
The video showed Bumblebee—or rather, a yellow-and-black Chevrolet Camaro she was pretty sure was Bumblebee—sitting innocently in a parking lot. The angle made it look like a security camera, not a person, was the source of the film.
Suddenly, a different car zoomed on screen, blurry and smudged, but there were clearly humans in it, one of which was sticking the upper half of his body out the back window. Two of the humans hurled something at the Chevrolet, which exploded on impact. Some sort of egg-flour mixture splattered all over the hood and windows of the car.
“GET YOUR FANCY ASS OUTTA OUR TOWN!” a staticky voice shouted, before the driver floored it and the car disappeared in a stream of dust.
The video fast-forwarded itself a minute, then returned to normal speed before the Chevrolet abruptly transformed. Bumblebee looked down at his chest with a painfully sad expression that made Amber hold a hand to her heart. He looked like a confused puppy. He wiped at his chest, but only smeared it more, and then turned around in a confused circle as he tried to look at his back wings to see what had gotten on them.
Amber shook her head and reached forward to type again. [Oh no, he looks so sad. Who knew the aliens could be beat with a simple egging?]
She did feel bad for Bee, but it was funny. Even if she also wanted to track down those goons and wipe their computers for vengeance. (She might, later).
[Yours was better,] Soundwave responded easily. [But I could show you more.]
Amber cringed. Oh, now this was dangerous. Now he really was tempting her. Because Amber loved finding videos of the Transformers, and Soundwave probably had more than anyone. But this, this desire was wholly personal. Her bosses would tell her to bail now, to bail ten minutes ago.
Amber shook her head. [Sorry, no deal. I don’t know what you want to ‘accomplish,’ as you said, but I’m not for it. So, nice meeting you, toddle along now.]
There was another pause.
One of the alarms on her other monitor went off, and her head whipped to the side to see that there was an attack on one of her inner firewalls. She cursed under her breath and immediately shifted in her seat, typing rapidly to cut him off. To her surprise, he retreated back to his section of her system immediately.
[Ah-ah-ah, not so easy,] she wrote, but she wasn’t smiling anymore. [You’ve overstayed your welcome. Go away, before I make you.]
She could take him on. Maybe. Virtually. Well, she was psyching up to try. If she could get him out for even a moment, then she could scramble her address so he couldn’t find her again. She’d have to be careful with her work after that, but nothing a little elbow grease couldn’t prepare her for.
He dropped another video into the document. She frowned. He wasn’t very good at taking no for an answer, was he?
{I’m not watching that,] she wrote. [Final warning!]
[It’s a good one,] he wrote back. [I won’t try to break in again, and no viruses. I was just testing your firewalls out of curiosity. I wouldn’t have taken anything.]
Uh-huh. She wasn’t trusting that.
But maybe if she watched it and told him to leave he would listen. She sighed and clicked play.
It was another set of security footage, this one looking out at a long open street at night. Two cars suddenly came swinging around the corner, the Chevrolet and a green SUV that she knew to be Bulkhead. They were probably racing, given how closely and quickly they were driving together.
But the SUV miscalculated the turn, and as it served, it bumped one of the streetlights. The streetlight blew out a wave of sparks as it tumbled down with a crash.
“Scrap!” a deep voice hissed, and the two cars transformed to reveal their cringing faces. The large Autobot, Bulkhead, hurried over to the streetlight. “Put it back, put it back!”
Bumblebee ran over to the other side and tried to line up the bottom of the pole to its place in the ground, beeping worriedly.
“Yes I know we have to fix it before Optimus finds out!” Bulkhead hissed back. “Come on, just—jam it in there!”
Amber was cackling as she watched them confusedly try to fix their mess, at one point wrapping the power lines around the pole and letting it sag to the side.
Some noise must’ve startled them, as both their heads swung around to look down the street. Then Bulkhead said, “Scram!” and the two transformed and rushed the other way.
A minute later, a blue motorcycle with a black-clad human rode down the street, much more slowly. She paused beside the streetlight and turned her front to shine her headlight onto it.
There was a deep sigh. “Those two are gonna get it,” said a female voice, and then revved its engines and sped after them. Amber covered her laughter with her hands, imaging the Autobot Arcee, much smaller than her allies, kicking the butts of two ‘Bots much bigger than her. They must’ve reported this thing to Fowler; Amber hadn’t heard about it.
Her anger and fear had dwindled while watching it, which was maybe stupid. But she typed, [Alright, that’s funny. You’ve got some good stuff.]
[I like to think I have some skills,] he said, and even though she had no idea what his voice sounded like (didn’t he refuse to speak?), she could hear the smug tone. [So. Friends?]
She huffed in exasperation. [Why do you want to be friends so bad?] she asked. [If you just want information and funny videos, you could propose a deal or an alliance.]
There was a short pause, just long enough for her to narrow her eyes.
[It’s like you said,] he said finally. [Hacker’s don’t really have friends. And I especially don’t have many friends in my line of work. But I think you and I could get along. And really, where’s the harm? We both just like gathering intel and keeping it to ourselves. No stakes, no goals, just exchanging information for the fun of it.]
Amber drummed her fingers again. Her bosses would flip if they found out she was revealing classified data to a literal alien invader. But she could sort out what was dangerous and harmless, right? And maybe she’d find out something from Soundwave, something to help the cause of the Autobots and protect the Earth rather than just cover their tracks.
And maybe she wanted a friend, too.
She spent the next ten minutes fixing up a chatroom with as much security as she could. They wouldn’t be able to hack each other, no one would be able to hack them. Then she dropped the link into Soundwave’s document.
She pulled up the window of the chatroom.
Void joined the group.
Soundwave joined the group.
Void has changed the group name to ‘The Transformer PR Team.’