Barricaded -- Chapter 6
These bunnies are very persistant. And fun. :D
Title: Barricaded -- Chapter 6
Rating: T
Continuity: AU Movieverse with G1 influence
Warnings: Reprogramming
Chapter 6
What do I do?
I... I... Surrender! Kneel, cross your wrists. Now!
Barricade did so, slowly raising his hands, crossing them at the wrists, then lowering himself to his knees. The Autobots stared. Ratchet blinked, then went back to working on Jazz. Optimus Prime let out a gust of air through his vents and stepped forward.
“Barricade, am I to understand that you are surrendering?”
Barricade dipped his helm. “Yes, sir.”
A few of the mechs blinked, and Samuel stuttered out a protest, something about “he tried to kill me!”
The Decepticon looked at the human, who was cowering behind Bumblebee's torn legs. “I did not try to kill you, human. My drone did more damage to you than I did.”
“I- um...”
Barricade blinked, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Then he looked back to the Autobots.
“Prime, I hereby renounce myself of any Decepticon affiliation and surrender to your authority and will. I have much to tell you. And your medic and saboteur, once Jazz has been repaired.”
“Wait, repaired?” one of the humans, one of the ones with a gun and heavy clothes shouted. “He's... he's torn in half!”
Barricade glanced over at him, and the man flinched.
Red optics. I think. They've associated blue with the good guys.
Oh. Nothing I can do about that now.
Not anything that wouldn't seem suspicious. I'd suggest looking down.
Barricade did so, bowing his helm and dimming his optics. His doorwings twitched as he felt the human shift, tensing slightly in surprise.
“Uh... Optimus?” the human said, sounding unsure.
Optimus vented again. “Barricade, I am unsure as to whether I can accept this. You are...”
Barricade snorted, and Smokescreen mentally rolled his optics. “If it makes you feel better, I swear on my spark to uphold the surrender.”
Four pairs of wide, surprised optics snapped back to him. The Prime cycled his vocalizer before he spoke. “Very well. Do you know any field repair?”
“Some, sir.”
“Then help Bumblebee.”
“What, you're just going to trust him? He's a Decepticon!” the armed human protested, and Samuel nodded frantically in agreement.
The Prime knelt down, wise, blue optics focusing intently on the humans. “He swore on his spark, Lennox. He is... On Cybertron, someone who swears on their spark...”
Barricade stepped up and knelt down in front of Bumblebee. The yellow Autobot held back a flinch as the Decepticon went to work on untangling frayed wires and kinking leaking pipes, but made no move to stop him. Barricade snorted at the Prime's hesitation. “No need to be nice about it, Prime. I swore on my spark. Until my oath is fulfilled or you release me, my spark is yours. It's coding that goes spark deep,” he added for the humans, staring intently at a wire that had fused to the Autobot's leg armor. “You don't have to worry about me betraying you. I pretty much can't.”
They blinked, then looked back to the Prime. He nodded slowly, reluctantly. “It is true.”
Big soft-spark. He doesn't know if he should be pleased that you surrendered, or frustrated that you gave up your “free will.” He hated it when he had to accept our oaths when he became Prime. And kinda funny if you think about it... our spark was already his. Technically speaking.
Once again, Barricade snorted, but he said nothing. He simply continued picking away at the mass of destroyed metal that was Bumblebee's legs.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
The United States Government, unsure of what to do with the Autobots, had given them an old, abandoned hanger on the edge of Mission City. They assured the aliens that there would be somewhere else for them soon, it was just all so sudden, and they didn't really have anywhere designated to house alien robots set up in advance.
So the five Autobots, one of them still in stasis, their human allies, and Barricade went to the hanger and settled in for the night. The humans stayed as far away from Barricade as they could, but he couldn't fault them for that.
The night passed quickly. Ratchet spent most of it working on Jazz. The other Autobots recharged in shifts, watching over each other and the humans.
Barricade stayed online too, red optics dim as he sat quietly in his corner.
It was about three in the morning when the Prime pinged his comms.
::Yes, Prime?::
::Why did you do it?::
::What? Surrender?::
::Yes.::
::It is an explanation better left for when your medic and saboteur are available. But... I do have a valid reason.::
::No need t' wait... Ah'm online.::
::I am too. Get talking, Barricade.::
The Decepticon heaved a heavy vent. ::It... this will be hard to believe, but... I wasn't... always... Barricade.::
::What do you mean?::
::Well, I mean, I've always been Barricade, but this frame wasn't always. I was... implanted. I was supposed to overwrite another mech. Only, he didn't... he didn't get overwritten. Not completely. Instead, he integrated the program - me - into himself. He survived, and made it so... well, I tried to ignore him, once. Tried to get rid of him. That's when I made a name for myself. I... Shockwave also downloaded a lot of violence and military protocols, and when I ignored, uh, the previous frame's owner, I fell into those. I...
::Eventually, I realized I still... needed him. So... Well, that was vorns ago. He's been teaching me since then, and... I haven't killed anyone I haven't needed to.::
The medic and Prime exchanged glances. ::So who was it you replaced?:: the Prime asked.
Come on! Don't they see the doorwings? Smokescreen whined, and Barricade had to snicker.
The two sitting mechs glanced at him, and Jazz, who had been hooked back together, but was still missing a lot of armor around his middle, onlined his visor to shoot a curious glance at the black and white mech.
Barricade, still smirking, twitched his doorwings. “I'll give you a hint. I was... he was one of the two Praxians you Autobots had.”
“Smokey?” Jazz asked, visor flickering as he blinked. “We thought ya were dead?”
“He isn't. He's still in here.” Barricade stopped for a moment and cocked his helm to the side. Then he grinned. “He says hi, Jazz, and Prime. And he asks that you don't smack me upside the helm, Ratchet, because he can feel it- Ow... too.”
The humans were up now, surprised awake by the loud clang Ratchet's wrench had made when it impacted against Barricade's helm. The black and white mech was sitting, rubbing a dent on his head, optics wide and innocent.
Sam rubbed his eyes. “Okay. Nobody that... pointy... should be able to look so much like a kicked puppy.”
Barricade blinked, then started snickering, as did Lennox and Jazz. Sam blinked. “What? What- Oh! Uh... sorry?”
Barricade shook his helm. “It was funny. Anyways... I...” He turned back to the medic. “Ratchet, Smokescreen is... is still in here. And... We've tried. I can't let him out. I... Primus! I do... I mean, he's been there since I was... created... but...” He shuddered.
Barricade? What are you doing? Smokescreen asked, tone warning. Barricade didn't answer.
“I... I want... He was there first. Get rid of me. Take me out. Let Smokescreen have his frame back.”
No! Barricade, you're just as much of a mech as me! No!
Optimus reared back slightly, as did Ratchet. Sam, Lennox, the other humans, and Ironhide, who, up until then, had been recharging, blinked, confused. The black mech made to ask what was going on, but Optimus gestured him back.
“Barricade, what about you?”
The black and white mech shrugged, doorwings twitching uneasily. “I don't care. But I was just a program before I... before.”
“But you aren't now.”
Again, he shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I want Smokescreen to have his frame back.”
Title: Barricaded -- Chapter 6
Rating: T
Continuity: AU Movieverse with G1 influence
Warnings: Reprogramming
Chapter 6
What do I do?
I... I... Surrender! Kneel, cross your wrists. Now!
Barricade did so, slowly raising his hands, crossing them at the wrists, then lowering himself to his knees. The Autobots stared. Ratchet blinked, then went back to working on Jazz. Optimus Prime let out a gust of air through his vents and stepped forward.
“Barricade, am I to understand that you are surrendering?”
Barricade dipped his helm. “Yes, sir.”
A few of the mechs blinked, and Samuel stuttered out a protest, something about “he tried to kill me!”
The Decepticon looked at the human, who was cowering behind Bumblebee's torn legs. “I did not try to kill you, human. My drone did more damage to you than I did.”
“I- um...”
Barricade blinked, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Then he looked back to the Autobots.
“Prime, I hereby renounce myself of any Decepticon affiliation and surrender to your authority and will. I have much to tell you. And your medic and saboteur, once Jazz has been repaired.”
“Wait, repaired?” one of the humans, one of the ones with a gun and heavy clothes shouted. “He's... he's torn in half!”
Barricade glanced over at him, and the man flinched.
Red optics. I think. They've associated blue with the good guys.
Oh. Nothing I can do about that now.
Not anything that wouldn't seem suspicious. I'd suggest looking down.
Barricade did so, bowing his helm and dimming his optics. His doorwings twitched as he felt the human shift, tensing slightly in surprise.
“Uh... Optimus?” the human said, sounding unsure.
Optimus vented again. “Barricade, I am unsure as to whether I can accept this. You are...”
Barricade snorted, and Smokescreen mentally rolled his optics. “If it makes you feel better, I swear on my spark to uphold the surrender.”
Four pairs of wide, surprised optics snapped back to him. The Prime cycled his vocalizer before he spoke. “Very well. Do you know any field repair?”
“Some, sir.”
“Then help Bumblebee.”
“What, you're just going to trust him? He's a Decepticon!” the armed human protested, and Samuel nodded frantically in agreement.
The Prime knelt down, wise, blue optics focusing intently on the humans. “He swore on his spark, Lennox. He is... On Cybertron, someone who swears on their spark...”
Barricade stepped up and knelt down in front of Bumblebee. The yellow Autobot held back a flinch as the Decepticon went to work on untangling frayed wires and kinking leaking pipes, but made no move to stop him. Barricade snorted at the Prime's hesitation. “No need to be nice about it, Prime. I swore on my spark. Until my oath is fulfilled or you release me, my spark is yours. It's coding that goes spark deep,” he added for the humans, staring intently at a wire that had fused to the Autobot's leg armor. “You don't have to worry about me betraying you. I pretty much can't.”
They blinked, then looked back to the Prime. He nodded slowly, reluctantly. “It is true.”
Big soft-spark. He doesn't know if he should be pleased that you surrendered, or frustrated that you gave up your “free will.” He hated it when he had to accept our oaths when he became Prime. And kinda funny if you think about it... our spark was already his. Technically speaking.
Once again, Barricade snorted, but he said nothing. He simply continued picking away at the mass of destroyed metal that was Bumblebee's legs.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
The United States Government, unsure of what to do with the Autobots, had given them an old, abandoned hanger on the edge of Mission City. They assured the aliens that there would be somewhere else for them soon, it was just all so sudden, and they didn't really have anywhere designated to house alien robots set up in advance.
So the five Autobots, one of them still in stasis, their human allies, and Barricade went to the hanger and settled in for the night. The humans stayed as far away from Barricade as they could, but he couldn't fault them for that.
The night passed quickly. Ratchet spent most of it working on Jazz. The other Autobots recharged in shifts, watching over each other and the humans.
Barricade stayed online too, red optics dim as he sat quietly in his corner.
It was about three in the morning when the Prime pinged his comms.
::Yes, Prime?::
::Why did you do it?::
::What? Surrender?::
::Yes.::
::It is an explanation better left for when your medic and saboteur are available. But... I do have a valid reason.::
::No need t' wait... Ah'm online.::
::I am too. Get talking, Barricade.::
The Decepticon heaved a heavy vent. ::It... this will be hard to believe, but... I wasn't... always... Barricade.::
::What do you mean?::
::Well, I mean, I've always been Barricade, but this frame wasn't always. I was... implanted. I was supposed to overwrite another mech. Only, he didn't... he didn't get overwritten. Not completely. Instead, he integrated the program - me - into himself. He survived, and made it so... well, I tried to ignore him, once. Tried to get rid of him. That's when I made a name for myself. I... Shockwave also downloaded a lot of violence and military protocols, and when I ignored, uh, the previous frame's owner, I fell into those. I...
::Eventually, I realized I still... needed him. So... Well, that was vorns ago. He's been teaching me since then, and... I haven't killed anyone I haven't needed to.::
The medic and Prime exchanged glances. ::So who was it you replaced?:: the Prime asked.
Come on! Don't they see the doorwings? Smokescreen whined, and Barricade had to snicker.
The two sitting mechs glanced at him, and Jazz, who had been hooked back together, but was still missing a lot of armor around his middle, onlined his visor to shoot a curious glance at the black and white mech.
Barricade, still smirking, twitched his doorwings. “I'll give you a hint. I was... he was one of the two Praxians you Autobots had.”
“Smokey?” Jazz asked, visor flickering as he blinked. “We thought ya were dead?”
“He isn't. He's still in here.” Barricade stopped for a moment and cocked his helm to the side. Then he grinned. “He says hi, Jazz, and Prime. And he asks that you don't smack me upside the helm, Ratchet, because he can feel it- Ow... too.”
The humans were up now, surprised awake by the loud clang Ratchet's wrench had made when it impacted against Barricade's helm. The black and white mech was sitting, rubbing a dent on his head, optics wide and innocent.
Sam rubbed his eyes. “Okay. Nobody that... pointy... should be able to look so much like a kicked puppy.”
Barricade blinked, then started snickering, as did Lennox and Jazz. Sam blinked. “What? What- Oh! Uh... sorry?”
Barricade shook his helm. “It was funny. Anyways... I...” He turned back to the medic. “Ratchet, Smokescreen is... is still in here. And... We've tried. I can't let him out. I... Primus! I do... I mean, he's been there since I was... created... but...” He shuddered.
Barricade? What are you doing? Smokescreen asked, tone warning. Barricade didn't answer.
“I... I want... He was there first. Get rid of me. Take me out. Let Smokescreen have his frame back.”
No! Barricade, you're just as much of a mech as me! No!
Optimus reared back slightly, as did Ratchet. Sam, Lennox, the other humans, and Ironhide, who, up until then, had been recharging, blinked, confused. The black mech made to ask what was going on, but Optimus gestured him back.
“Barricade, what about you?”
The black and white mech shrugged, doorwings twitching uneasily. “I don't care. But I was just a program before I... before.”
“But you aren't now.”
Again, he shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I want Smokescreen to have his frame back.”