WHO: Barricade, Blackout
WHERE: Zone 4-ish
WHAT: Barricade feels the need to figure out why Blackout's alive/bring him up to speed on Axiom happenings...at least, from a Tyran Decepticon point of view.
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come on man, you can't be real I'll show you what it is, let the anthem build )
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If Blackout had had a face capable of scowling, he would have been after that. As it was, his mandibles twitched inwards defensively, and one hand curled into a fist. "Forgive me if I don't take your words seriously, given that I seem to stand, alive and functioning, before you."
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"And yes, you stand. But now you understand why I thought you dead. Admittedly, as Megatron seemed able to come back from the dead..."
He shook his head slightly. "Once more, what did you say your last memory was?"
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"Being ambushed," he said, upright stance relaxing some. "By a unit of fleshlings with those primitive toys of weapons. I was moving in to assist our Lord against Prime." And hadn't it been jarring, to go from the midst of battle to processing and paperwork? It still made his processor glitch, thinking about it.
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He went quiet to let this settle in Blackout's processor.
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Still, it made no sense. "That's...that's impossible," he said finally, the only words that seemed appropriate.
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He removed these thoughts, and instead brought up the files he spoke of as he prepared for the data transfer. Designations. Causes of death. Everything that he'd found out during his time, aside from his personal experiences with Bumblebee and his ward (though he was prepared to share the fact that he was as hunted as any of the others, that there was a time he'd escaped by the rubber of his tires - only to reiterate the fact that they had been hunted. all of ( ... )
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As it was, he just initiated uplink and waited for Barricade to transfer the files, eager to peruse the information for himself. He wanted to know what had happened, everything that had happened, even though he still wasn't entirely sure he believed it.
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Macerator. Kickback. Trample, Tread. So many others. All the data Barricade had accumulated on NEST, which wasn't too much - for all of the fact that Cybertronian technology and software was far superior to anything the humans had, it was more along the lines of him not quite knowing where to search; he was used to Frenzy doing such things. He'd found enough to understand the purpose of the group, but not who they were going after, how they were hunting them.
His memory files of Mission City were there as well, though Blackout might easily note that none of it was first hand. He hadn't been there; why, he did not transfer, though there was a distinct sense of regret tinging it. He'd wanted to be there. He'd wanted to fight. Fate - or ill luck - had not allowed him to participate. He would not have minded dying in battle with the rest of them, but as he had survived - he had a duty to continue surviving, and to do whatever he could to seek revenge without getting himself killed in the process ( ... )
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He was getting one now, though, looking through the files Barricade was giving him. Though it was always a possibility that the files were doctored, or fabricated, there were no glaring inconsistencies or any of the other, more subtle markers that might indicate it.
It seemed he had to believe him.
He really had missed things. He shook his head, not in negation but incredulity. How could this happen? he wondered as he lingered, particularly, on the information from Mission City. The thought was probably clear to Barricade.
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As Blackout made no attempt to keep him out, Barricade took another, deeper look in - then, finding nothing to answer his question (unless the lack of something did so), he oulled back out. Satisfied? he sent without sarcasm along the data link.
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Satisfied, he acknowledged, caching the files for further examination later and initiating disconnection of that link. "The Allspark..." he said aloud, the volume of his vocalizer low and the tone pensive. "Does anything remain?"
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"A single shard," he explained, sending the relevant data file, which...did not have much information to it. The humans - and Autobots - hid its location well. "I do not know where it is," Barricade reiterated, before starting the subroutines to close the connection.
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"Not that there's much we can do to reclaim it even if you did," he muttered. "Not unless they happened to bring it here."
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