WHO:
namesnotprowl,
technoorganic, later
brbhatingumoar and
calledthemedicWHAT: Blackarachnia is extremely displeased about Barricade breaking into her lab, and finally gives him what he deserves.
WHERE: Zone 8
WHEN: During Magnum's infection, probably now-ish ;3
WARNINGS/NOTES: Violence, robogore, and general creepiness.
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Crawling up the walls, running down your face... )
He's been ignoring attempts to call him unless they use emergency channels, but a text is impossible not to read - and he's gathering supplies and a kit before he's even formulated a reply.
//On my way. I'll use the transwarps, ETA less than a Centicycle. What the frag happened?//
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//Long story. I'll fill you in when you get here.//
Because really, how does he explain that his Firelizard is rooting spiders out of him and teleporting them... somewhere? Or that the wee beastie torched the free-roaming ones with fire breath?
Though considering he had Primus knows how many spiders chewing on him, he's in mighty bad shape.
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//I hate long stories. Hang tight, I'm Zone Six now.//
The main transwarp lines stopped at six, but there were emergency-only lines into seven and eight. You had to file to access them, but Santori's passcard was good as tritinum for transit around the Nexus, and Ratchet appeared in the empty and fortified hub of Zone 8 without too much trouble.
Of course, getting to Barricade's position required a bit more stealth than speed - not the easiest thing to manage as a red and white mech, but the darkness covered everything, and he wasn't too soft from the battlefield yet.
He found abandoned building (though that was something to say, since everything looked abandoned here) that he suspected Barricade was in, and relayed one last message before heading in.
//I'm coming in. Shoot me and I'll personally weld your hands to your aft. And double your repair fee.//
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Zone Seven is home for Barricade. Not exactly the most secure home, for anyone that wasn't like him or Bonecrusher, but home nevertheless. Driving down had seemed like a better idea than driving up, as far as he'd cared, and folks left him be even here. He'd worked on mechs here for less than minimum pay before, after all. Big nasty fellows that would back him up.
When he wasn't being stalked by Spider-Lady, anyway.
He gets that last message and... almost has to laugh. //Not able to shoot you, not that I would. Get in here.// Though Ratchet might hear the Rumble hiss and a tiny squeal as the firelizard offlines the last of the mini-spiders, depositing the metal carcass in easy reach. The bronze then sits atop Barricade's chassis, scolding him loudly. Stop being stupid, dumb pet robot, it hurts when you do!
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Ratchet's seen badly injured, and Barricade isn't one of the worst in his career - but it's a nasty looking mess in front of him and Ratchet's list of 'worse' includes his dead, which might be unfair to the Tyran. He doesn't waste time with pleasantries either: a quick scan of the space shows they're alone for the moment, and that's all Ratchet needs to kneel by the mech, optics scanning on every level to start to assess the worst of the damage.
He spools a line out and jacks directly into Barricade's head, patiently sitting before a set of firewalls (and part of him remembers ignoring firewalls, tearing them down to repair...) and sending an impatient and terse-
::Walls down. Grant me access to systems and diagnostics only. Keep your data guarded.::
Ratchet was a hands-on mech, literally. It got him into trouble in Santori, but here it meant faster, cleaner repairs in less time. Time was always the most important thing, in a war.
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And curses when it didn't move.
Another scan, and a request of a playback of what the hell had done this sort of damage, and Ratchet has to find another curse to mutter as he begins prying the plating open by hand, manually peeling back or hand-turning gears and pistons to grant him access to the damaged lines. The poison is effective, and not something he's dealt with before- but Santori had, and he knows how to cure it from them.
Of course, a full flush of Barricade's fluid lines - all of them - means he has to have his lines patched in the first place if Ratchet wants this to work before the mech dies ( ... )
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He notes that his plating is being pried open, though he doesn't seem to mind it overly much. He's stripped his own plating off for repairs before. Really, he's more concerned about the venom. Fragging Blackarachnia. He attempts to recall working on Blitzwing. That had been this venom business. It had worked out of his system. Barricade just didn't know how long it took, and he doesn't want to be stuck in this hole for longer than he had to. He ignores the system alarms and warnings, keeping his optics focused on Ratchet and his work.
"Ain't the end of the world if it's bent outta shape or you pull it off. Probably need t'replace some of it at the least, anyway."
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He notices the shudders and the accompanying spider bodies. At least his facial plating has enough movement left to twist in sympathy. "Think Rumble was more concerned about the live ones. Sorry," he murmurs in a genuine apology. This should have been his problem to deal with and he hates that he couldn't hack it.
"Not gonna distract you if I give you that explanation I owe ya, am I?"
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He chuckles at the question, an out loud sound against his mental 'voice'.
::I'm not on a battlefield dodging bullets and occasionally returning fire with someone else's gun. I think I can handle a few more answers without slowing down.::
And he'd handled a lot worse on battlefields and kept on working. Barricade would have to work particularly hard to distract him here.
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"Just checkin'. I know how some folks do with distractions." Like Frenzy. Getting him to focus when they weren't doing something to find Megatron had been a trial. "Well. Pretty sure you noticed Magnum comin' down with his own brand of the flu, yeah? Magnus and the Aurexian Starscream orchestrated most of that, but they needed someone with some skill in stealth t'get the virus. And considerin' how - heh - 'in the trenches' I was with all that, Starscream offered the job t'me."
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That makes Ratchet pause.
It's only a pause, and he starts back up again as intent as ever only a moment later - as if nothing at all had stopped him. But it's a telling reaction nonetheless, even if his voice is the same polite, focused tone as before.
::So you're the one who found it... ::
And what do you say to a mech that did something you wished would happen, but you also know you shouldn't condone? 'Thank you' is wrong in so many ways, but 'he didn't deserve it' is worse...
::Don't suppose you kept a sample or two of it in reserve?::
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"Don't hurt that I knew where t'look. Magnus practically gave the coords when everyone else was infected." He realizes that it's a blatant betrayal of a Megatron's trust in him - such that it is. But if it saved him from spying for his Soundwave, and taught Magnum to not go off so half-cocked in the future, he didn't mind. "Slipped into Blackarachnia's lab, got a few vials, broke a few... ruined her files. Broke everything good'n proper." Barricade finally sounds a little smug at that - even if it wrought this, he can still be pleased with his work - then fixes his gaze on Ratchet, a slight, lop-sided smirk on his face.
"Kept one just f'r you. Told you I'd get one for ya if I had the opportunity, didn't I?"
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It makes sense, what he's heard and seen on the network culminating to this, but it's still something to hear.
::Can't say I'm sorry for her. I only wish I could have gotten that when the damned virus hit the rest of us.::
If he'd had the virus, he'd have found a cure - that wasn't just dosing mechs again - and might have avoided what he'd done... And if Wishes were Turrets, as the saying went...
::Well, we'll call that vial payment for all this work, and your followup. And I can get back to making sure that doesn't hit us again, blast it.::
Even if it took him a stellar cycle. Or twelve.
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"Just try not to work yourself into the ground on it, all right? It was ridiculous enough when Blackout did it."
Hilarious, maybe. But Barricade so hates it when mechs he (currently or formerly) respect(ed) do dumb things like that. Even if it makes him an utter hypocrite.
"... And if you could, I'd prefer y'keep this off the network, until I can have a chat with Magnum when he's more himself. I don't need another Soundwave on my back."
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