Sparks 6
Title: Sparks (6)
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect. Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks!
A:N This fic has been my baby for a while now and I really appreciate all the feedback I’ve received. Feel free to leave a comment with anything. Be it request, ideas or just speculation. I want to know what you think. Thanks to Dragoona and Tsumiden. You guys are the best. This chapter is dedicated to Muzai .( Happy 21st baby, you’ve come a long way.)!
(And to those who might not have been paying attention this chapter is rated (M)
To all who read this Enjoy
Sparks 6
Jacked In
666666
Stuck in the deranged police cruiser, Sam kicked the back of the driver’s seat demanding his freedom. Barricade responded by shifting gears and increasing his speed over the cracked streets. Outside the window the scenery whipped by them, the Decepticon’s sirens screaming the whole way. Stuck along for the ride Sam alternated between pounding on the windows and digging his house keys into the leather seats, trying to stop his kidnapping-in-progress. The traditional divider was missing in the Deception’s alternate mode so there was nothing to stop the teen from making his way into the front seats.
Weaving between a truck and the meridian the Barricade sped up, the force of the velocity nearly flattening the teen to the back-seat. Unwilling to give up Sam knelt instead, with the minor shift of equilibrium he was able to half crawl, half drag himself between the front seats.
Digging his fingers into the headrests the teen rose into a crouch. Precariously balanced, he slammed his foot hard against the gearshift throwing the car immediately into chaos. The forced gears shifting made an awful grating sound as the cruiser slammed into reverse. Almost as quickly the brakes engaged, the evil alien car halting in its tracks. Slamming against the dashboard, Samuel was painfully aware of the horns and squealing tires of the other cars on the road.
Scrabbling at the steering wheel he clung to it and the gearshift pulling his way into the driver’s seat.
Between his fingers the gearshift moved again, heedless of his vice-like grip. The engine revved again and the car took off. Staring out the windshield Witwicky gritted his teeth and hung on. Switching lanes Barricade whipped past a semi and in front of a school bus filled with kids. Kicking the dashboard as they passed the exit for Mission City, Sam swore again toed his foot toward the brake.
All at once fingers curled about his throat cutting off the air to his lungs.
Above Sam’s body appeared the not quite-real-representation of the Police car. Blond hair stuck out oddly from the black cap on his head and the almost handsome face twisted with concentration as he attempted to wring the life from the boy. The non-biological strangling him settled heavily over his body, a knee digging painfully into his groin. That discomfort was minor compared to the denial of oxygen to his systems. It hurt, by god it hurt. He was dying, again. He had to escape, had to stop it.
Striking the firm body pinning him, Sam aimed for vital organs and the sneering face. It did him no good, the nails dug in bruising the soft flesh of his neck. Gasping for air Sam railed against his attacker clawing at the strong hands about his throat, he tried to escape; tried to fight and above all else survive.
The assault continued, the Decepticon weaving on the road; choking the life from its human passenger.
If he was going to be such a nuisance he was far better off dead.
Megatron would not be pleased, but the lure of ending Witwicky’s life was far to tempting for him to pass up. Tightening his grip slowly he could feel the soft tissues beneath his fingers, the adrenaline surging through the organic system. Against his grip the pitiful little thing writhed, tragically unable to protect itself. The human’s terror flowed off of him in waves; the pain twisted features would be etched in Barricade’s optics until the day he off-lined permanently. Oh, this he would enjoy.
Sam gasped again, his strength failing him in the end. Unable to even scream he stared at the glowing red eyes of his murderer. He stared, imprinting the last humanoid face he’d ever see. He stared until his eyes watered. He stared until his vision swam and his heart raced. Flickering red light danced before his eyes and he sagged in the chair, his chest burning. He was briefly aware of painful laughter as everything began to fade.
666666
Frenzy paced the walls of his tiny prison hissing as he moved. Here he was, held captive by the Autobots, locked away until they could figure out what to do with him. As if he a Deception would submit to their pretty little ideals of peace and love. Locked away in a little box, it was not the worst punishment he’d ever received. Megatron would do worse for a mech that failed him on a regular basis. Imprisoned, it wasn’t death, but it was a long way from failure. He was at the least still functioning. That was far better than most of his companions.
The slagging Autobots had him trapped in the middle of nowhere. Miles beneath the surface of the Earth encased in a box of steel, encased in concrete. He’d already attempted escape, but he was certainly not the burrowing sort of machine. That was better left to Blackout’s drone Scorponok. Rolling and twisting in the four by four space the mini-con snarled. There was barely enough room for him to maneuver or even fully stretch. The Autobots had grasped the concept of psychological torture all to well. It was probably the big brute’s idea. Ironhide had a severe dislike of Decepticons. Smashing his head into the wall, the mech swore loud in three incomprehensible languages. He couldn’t even access a satellite. The absolutely worst thing about the situation was the silence. He could handle being frozen, he could handle not knowing if he would awaken or not. What he could not stand was the silence, the lack of any signal at all, friendly or otherwise.
Clawing his little coffin he briefly considered off-lining himself, just for something to do. The Autobots would just love that. Oh they would squirm at the sight of his limp, silent body. They’d probably even try to save him. As tempting as the thought was he had neither the tools nor skills to make sure his "suicide" wasn’t permanent. No matter how bored he was, Frenzy was not about to give the Autobots the pleasure of watching him break. He’d sooner convert to their side and help the stupid fleshy insects.
The irony of the concept was not lost on him. He knew very well that his appearance was rather comparable to an insectoid species that inhabited the Primus forsaken ball filled with dirt, water and plants.
It wasn’t as if the measly creatures weren’t killing it off themselves. Dropping to the impenetrable surface of his new home, he curled up chittering to himself. It was best to give up and go crazy from the beginning of the isolation. More of a chance to inflict chaos and torment on whomever came to inspect him first.
Whoever releases me after three hundred years or something like that he thought angrily. It was a stupid fleshy saying, but in the particular situation it was perfectly acceptable.
666666
Mikaela ducked the missile aimed at her and slipped into the alley. This was not what she needed today. Flicking open her cell she called for help, again. The suspect vehicle she’d been tailing had suddenly turned on her, its wheels spinning as she scrambled for cover.
Fleeing the territorial rage of an as-of-the-moment unidentified Cybertronian Mikaela Banes nearly had a heart attack. There in the alley, she stumbled into was the very truck she’d used during the Mission City battle to save Bumblebee. The paint job needed some work and the window was covered in plastic and tape, but she was convinced it was the most beautiful vehicle she’d ever seen in her life.
Rushing to the white Ford, the young woman smoothed her hand along the driver’s side door.
"I am so glad to see you. Remember me?"
She cut the plastic right down the middle and reached inside the parked truck.
She’d would totally call Mike’s towing and reimburse them or something, somehow, but now was really not the time. Hell she didn’t even know why she was talking to the truck itself. Maybe it was the panic maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact she had a close bond with giant alien cars or maybe it wasn’t
She would deal with it later.
"Listen, I’m in a bit of a jam and I need your help again. I promise I’ll make it up to you. If only you’d jus-"
Just as before the rumbling of the engine was music to her ears. Slipping to the driver seat she grinned at the Déjà vu and put the truck in gear. She cut it a bit close, but pulled out into the street accelerating past her pursuer. Thankful for small miracles she kissed the steering wheel between her fingers and headed out of the city.
666666
Miles took a deep breath as Trent raged. Tipped on the sidewalk was his "precious baby" and all he did was scream. What a baby. The engine was still running, despite the fact the vehicle was upside down. Half on the sidewalk, crushing a parking meter the blue Hummer had a cracked window on one side and a major dent on the other. The driver’s side door was practically inverted on it’s hinge and the weight of the vehicle was crushing the frame further into the pavement. Unable to do anything the jock tried calling the insurance company again. They’d hung up on him the first time.
It wasn’t that Miles didn’t sympathize with the young man. There were just more important things to be worrying about like Sam.
"Fuck!" Miles shouted balling his fists.
How could this have happened?
He had just gotten Sam back, only to have him ripped away days later. It was the beginning of a cruel vicious cycle. He was definitely reconsidering his stance on illegal aliens, the robotic transforming kind.
This was definitely not good. He couldn’t panic. He had to calm down for Sam’s sake. He had to think.
Still lamenting the fate of his "baby" DeMarco furiously turned on him.
"This is your fault!"
Already frustrated the blond absolutely refused to take his bait.
He wasn’t going to take it. Not at all. Sam needed him more than Trent needed as crash course in common decency.
"I’m talking to you fairy. It’s a wonder you didn’t get arrested for crimes against humanity."
Clenching his fists, Miles held firm to his beliefs. He was not about to let DeMarco get to him.
He’d survived classes with him for years. Five minutes was nothing.
"DeMarco I don’t have time for this."
"What’s wrong, afraid they’ll have your little boyfriend before you do?"
Slapping his hand over his face he tried another tactic.
"You just don’t get it do you? That was not a police officer. Hell that wasn’t even a real car!’
Trent stared at him for a full four seconds before looking back to his cell. He turning he muttered something about insurance and triple A.
Miles groaned, he wasn’t even sure why he was still standing there. Things were happening too fast and he didn’t know what to do... Sam was depending on him to help or at least get the "The Car".
And there he was trying to prove something to Trent freakin’ DeMarco. Some help he was.
"Give me your phone!"
"What?"
"Give me your phone!"
Trent lowered his sunglasses, narrowing his eyes in an implied threat.
Miles was no where near as impressed as he used to be and he wasn’t surprised.
"Give me your phone. It’s a matter of life or death!"
Moving back to the upside down blue Hummer, Trent refused.
Again the exasperated teen wasn’t surprised.
"Okay let me put this in tiny words that even you can understand. If you don’t give me the phone right now, the Decepticons are going to get away with this and Sam will mostly likely die!"
Covering the phone, Trent gave the little homo-freak a withering stare.
"So?"
If possible Lancaster looked even more pathetic than he usually did.
"Sam. Will. Die!"
"And that’s my problem how again?"
The clenched fists and the set of Lancaster’s jaw briefly reminded the jock of that day on his porch six years prior. Stepping back from the fuming young man Trent hoped desperately that the freak wouldn’t try to kiss him again.
Miles took two steps forward, peaceful mantra forgotten in his rage. That fucking jerk was going to get a piece of his mind. He stopped dead as the bright blue Hummer began to shudder. Every curse, threat and complaint died on his lips as the previously tipped vehicle unfolded into a rather familiar shape. Well sort of.
In the middle of downtown Tranquility in broad daylight the Autobot, at least he hoped it was an Autobot was transforming. Behind them patrons filed out of a shop staring in horror. Briefly reminded of the Mission City Incident Miles sighed. Further down the block someone screamed and cars screeched to a halt. Panic seemed to set in their audience seemed to disburse in a mass of screaming people. Surprised but almost relieved the teen turned back to the car.
The doors slid away as the bumper shifted upward, the pieces rearranging themselves into a new figure.
The torso was broader and rounder than Bumblebee’s; the alien was definitely taller as well. The gray-silver shades meshed perfectly along the long legs and curled up its sides and shoulders. There was an odd sort of beauty in the machine lying on the ground. It had to be twenty feet at the least. Rolling over in the street, it loomed over them, its optics brightening.
"Tell me you didn’t just say Decepticons."
It was then Trent began screaming, again. Dropping to his butt, his mouth fell open as he stared up at the creature that used to be his precious baby. Miles nodded solemnly and snatched the cell phone from his fingers.
"Fraid I did… ma’am."
Ma’am, it was obviously feminine, her voice too sweet and sensuous to be anything else.
His eyes roamed back over her chassis and he this time he had no doubt she was a female of the alien species.
"Chromia." she corrected softly, her tone affecting a southern lilt.
Nodding, he turned back to the phone hunting for a particular number.
If they were going to handle the situation, they were going to need help.
Recovering from the shock, DeMarco finally stood pulling the sunglasses from his face.
"You can talk?"
"I can do more than just that." she purred leaning closer.
Unnerved he almost stepped back, but his eyes caught the Hummer symbol on her arm.
She was his car. His car. Oh Boy. His car was that thing…. Chromia he corrected himself, she was his car.
Slowly almost against his will, he reached out to touch her.
Somewhere beyond his field of vision, he heard Miles talking to himself.
"-no not there, then she must be under… ah ha, Bunny!"
Confused, Trent stared at the machine unable to say anything, well unable to say anything of consequence.
That living breathing car thing was his. The giant car was his…
"Bunny?" he repeated dumbly from his robotic induced stupor. She laughed leaning close enough for him see his own startled reflection in her panels. The bright optics flicker in what he assumed was a wink.
"Yeah honey?"
666666
Fear invaded his overwhelmed senses and Sam tried to sit up. A spasm of pain rippled through him and he winced. A quick glance and he ascertained three things about his surroundings.
One, he was currently in an abandoned warehouse, two he was surrounded by Decepticons and three the floor was covered in blood. A wave of nausea struck him hard and he covered his mouth trembling on the cold floor. Barricade loomed over him, optics glinting.
Scuttling back across the floor, his hands found a bit of stray tubing, curling his fingers about it he rose to his feet and swung. An offhanded blow knocked easily from his feet. Moving back, he avoided the fist slamming into the wall of the "base". Fury etched into the mech’s features as his claws closed over the fleshling on the floor.
"If you ever interfere with me again, I will make you suffer as you beg for death."
Squirming under the rumbling Decepticon, Samuel was only too happy allow his displeasure to be known.
The saliva trailing down the enraged shock trooper’s face was by far the last straw.
Digging his fingers into the soft flesh the Decepticon hauled the boy from the floor; he slammed down hard, knocking the air from his lungs. Coughing and sputtering the human struggled trying anything that would dislodge himself from its grasp.
His attempts were ineffective, but still he tried earning a cruel chuckle from the transformed police cruiser.
"You wouldn’t dare." His rasped words rung with false bravado, but the mech was not impressed.
"Your mere presence here is enough to make the Autobots suffer more than just killing you outright."
The snarled words rumbled over him, as the Decepticon tore at the fabric and flesh over his torso.
He winced again the fingers clawing at the metal pinning him, desperate for some sort of escape. The claws enveloping him squeezed just a little harder. "Your condition however is negotiable."
"Barricade." The command in that voice stilled the alien-robot intent on killing him.
Squirming in the tight grasp Sam caught sight of his savior. Megatron, the harbinger of death and evil megalomaniac moved closer, the other robots parting before him. Sam found himself dropped back onto the cold floor, not that he was thinking about that, the shooting pain in his side was enough to distract him from almost anything. A ten foot drop could do that to you and it didn’t help when the human was forced to his knees before the Lord and Master of the Decepticon force. Staring up at the giant walking nightmare, Sam trembled.
"You, pathetic insect that wrested my victory from me."
Sharp talons raked across his back tearing both fabric and skin. Hissing in pain, teen wobbled falling forward to his hands; even so he could not wrest his gaze from the eyes glowing in the dark.
A single claw skimmed up his torso lifting his chin.
"Tell me how you wish to die."
666666
Ironhide pulled out of the Hoover Dam motor pool and followed the speeding yellow Camaro closely.
Bumblebee had been petty but had preformed his duties as ordered by his commander, nothing more could have been expected of him. If the Autobots were to remain on the third planet in the Sol system they had to make peace with the natives. Even if they didn’t particularly care for them.
Reginald Simmons was quite possibly the most irritating human he’d ever met, but even he could change. He’d been faultlessly polite, even going so far as to inquiring about their well-being. While Ironhide hadn’t cared to respond he could respect the sentiment.
The junior officer on the other hand took the moment to express himself in his own endearing fashion.
"Well, I'm not okay, I'm not o-fucking-kay"
The operative stepped back choking on his words. The scout had been smug until informed that Optimus would hear of his stunt. He’d refrained from pulling that particular trick again, but the meeting had gone down hill from there.
Attempting to humor the yellow mech and keeping the meeting peaceful was a full time responsibility,
Optimus probably should have sent Ratchet, but he hadn’t and Ironhide would go willingly to the pit before he failed his commander. They’d been reacquainted with the command structure and the ranking personnel.
The humans Maggie Madsen and Glenn Whitmann had been pleasant to interact with, the female had gone so far as to asking permission to touch Bumblebee. He’d almost refused her, having formed an attachment with another human already, but he’d finally relented when she insisted it would be a hands only sort of thing. Mr. Whitmann had only watched, at one point he mumbling something about hot women and hot cars. She’d glared at the comment, but Bumblebee chirped in agreement.
Getting back on topic, the Autobots were introduced to the few Earth-born Cybertronians in protective custody. The seven-foot tall, four armed, soft drink dispensing creature known as Dewbot was polite and unexpectedly brilliant. Bumblebee unfortunately made the mistake of calling it cute in their native tongue. In response Dewbot analyzed his statement, downloaded the language samples isolated from the Decepticons in the Qatar base and Air Force One attacks, translated the information, pieced together their basic alphabet and simply told the Camaro exactly where he could shove it. All of that was done in the forty-five seconds it took to give Glenn a soda. Ironhide liked him already.
In the end, the overall progress was acceptable. While their previous methods had been undesirable the honesty the agency presented was admirable. It almost made him ignore what they were hiding. Simmons was dedicated man, but he had his pride. In the end, his results would justify his means, no matter who got hurt. Bumblebee was proof.
Ironhide rumbled and sped up passing a few drivers to reach his charge. "Slow your roll, kid, this isn’t a race."
Bumblebee made to respond, but something drew his attention.
Scanning the surrounding area he discovered something of interest. Relaying the information to the Topkick, he whipped across three lanes of freeway traffic and made for the off ramp.
Blaring his horn the black truck followed, texting Will on the way, he’d be late getting home.
666666
So maybe going out to the middle of nowhere was the worst idea she’d ever had, save for her tragic choice of boyfriends. In her humble opinion, life kind of sucked. Dangling upside down from her seatbelt Mikaela Banes was not panicking. Glancing out the nonexistent window she caught sight of the mech stomping towards her. Smothering curses she rattled her seatbelt, struggling for freedom.
With each step it took the earth shook and the white pickup wobbled dangerously. Finally working her way free, she patted the wheel in appreciation and apology. Crawling from the wreckage she wiped the blood from her arm and made for the pseudo-safety of the hills. If she could just get away from the car stalking her, she might have a chance. Skirting the smoking crater the F350 had flipped into she ran and didn’t look back.
For the second time in her life things exploded, bits of rubble flew through the air, and Mikaela found herself lifted from her feet. Screaming hysterically, she struggled in the large fingers pounding and kicking her captor. Steeling herself, Mikaela looked up to see what had just happened. On the ground twitching was her pursuer with a sizable hole blown in it chest.
Holding her in his hand, on the other hand was quite possible the most beautiful mech she’d ever seen.
The blue and white head moved forward his silver faceplate nearly touching her trembling body.
"Are you alright?"
Blinking rapidly she stepped across his hand embracing his face.
"I am more that alright. You just saved my life."
Thank god for small miracles, no scratch that. Thank god for large miracles that came in the shape of giant-alien-robots. As she held him, she could hear the whirring of the joints and mechanic bits inside.
"You asked me for help."
Releasing him finally she managed a bright smile. "That I did and you so came through. You are totally my hero."
The remarked seemed to surprise him, but he nodded his assent.
The sound of tires kicking up gravel came closer and two familiar figures made their appearance. The yellow Camaro stopped short as the truck lowered Mikaela to the ground. Smiling she waved to him and Ironhide as he came closer.
"Mikaela?"
"You would not believe the day I’ve had."
The mechs looked briefly to the wreckage in the dust. Bumblebee honked in reply.
"Ok so maybe you would."
Behind her the truck shifted back into his slightly abused alt. Ironhide moved closer ready to attack.
"Is this guy a friend of yours?"
She never got the chance to answer as her cell began to ring. Rolling her eyes at the name in the caller id, she considered ignoring it. Practicality however won out. She moved away from the circle of vehicles to answer the caller. As she departed the Aliens took the time to introduce themselves.
"Ironhide and Bumblebee, Cybertron"
"Long Arm, Earth,"
They didn’t get much further than that because Mikaela’s voice suddenly got louder.
"Why the hell are you on Trent’s phone? What about Sam?"
666666
It had happened so fast. The claws had trapped him again and he’d screamed. The human’s struggles were in vain as he was lifted from the floor. In brief moments before his execution something unexpected happened. His much-abused shirt finally gave out, splitting right down the back dropping him again to the floor. Once again denied his malicious entertainment the Decepticon leader tossed the torn fabric away reaching for the stunned human. Just before his talons pierced the supple flesh a single light caught the lines decorating his pale torso. All at once the assorted alien menace started. Their optics processed the marks and analyzing them as they all reached the same conclusion.
"The All Spark."
Sam trembled under their scrutiny and Megatron loomed closer. For the second time in so many days he feared for his life. The claws touched him again, a firm pressure on his torso but nothing more. His heart pounded in his chest, it was almost louder than the buzz in his ears. Another poke and he swayed on his feet, the buzzing became louder and his vision swam. Another poke and he wobbled suddenly dizzy, unable to remain standing.
When he finally fell, no one cared. All optics turned to Megatron fearful and apprehensive.
"It is the All Spark, but it is useless to me in that pathetic shell." Scrutinizing the Mechs before him he continued. " Starscream, remove the cube or find a way to harness its power. Do not fail me again."
Scowling at the weak boy on the floor the Air Commander could only reply favorably.
"Yes my Lord Megatron."
Turning suddenly the seeker swept from the room snapping at the subordinates as he moved.
"Barricade! Bring the human."
Seizing the limp youth for the second time that evening the cruiser followed the fuming mech.
Dangling from the mechanical digits Sam could do nothing but groan. Somehow he knew his new situation was potentially worse than death.
The room was cold and filled with twisted machines and broken metal. In the corner he caught sight of the mangled bits of a Decepticon on a table. Crossing the threshold Barricade deposited him none too gently on another table. Scrambling away from his tormenter the human was surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else. The shorter machine moved along the floor its segmented tail swinging as it climbed up the table.
Scooting to the center of the platform, the human looked about his primitive organic optics searching for any escape. Starscream briefly allowed it to cling to its foundling hope before crushing that too. Slamming a claw against the metal he knocked the weakling’s legs from under it. Scorponok chittered moving along the edge scanning the human carefully. Turning to its superior it simply transmitted the information it ascertained. ‘Lord Megatron can not control it because the system is not compatible. There is nothing in the organic that can be used to access the All Spark, better to remove it than keep the fleshy thing.’
Responding in English, Starscream refused. "There must be some sort of upgrade to allow us to utilize its primitive systems. If there wasn’t the All Spark would not have bonded with it."
Scanning the terrified human again and comparable medical data from the Internet, the scorpion did indeed find a solution. Relaying the data to the Air Commander it awaited his approval. Tapping his claws on the table, Starscream couldn’t have been more pleased with the turn of events if he’d slammed the All Spark into the fleshling himself. "Acceptable, Proceed"
Shivering on the long table Sam jumped as the massive claw of the F-22 slammed beside him. At the other end of the table the metal scorpion moved closer, a thin needle extending from the tip of its tail. Trapped between two Decepticons, Sam stood hands clenched. He was not going down without a fight; he’d fought them before. The creature struck fast, faster than he could see. Instinctively throwing himself to the table, he avoided the first attack but not the second. The stinger impaled his raised arm at the wrist splattering his blood everywhere. Just as quickly it withdrew, the mech hissing incomprehensibly. Choking back his screams, Sam briefly saw the tail rise again. On his knees all he could do was try to protect himself. The third blow caught his other arm almost in the same place, its removal spun him about knocking him to his belly, blood pooling beneath his arms.
Barricade watched from the door with detached amusement. The human screamed and fought, failed and bled. Struggling to escape, the fourth strike caught him in the back and the fifth pierced the flesh below his throat. Blood dribbled over the edge of the table staining the floor. Avoiding the growing puddle. Starscream inspected the drone’s handiwork. While this method was unorthodox it would allow them to utilize the All Spark in its current incarnation.
As Samuel writhed in pain clutching his throat the Decepticons worked. Holding the teen down they wired a simple synaptic network into his nervous system. Heedless of the boy’s wails, the Air Commander oversaw the insertion of accompanying neural access ports. Applied directly to the skin the ports sealed and cauterized the oozing wounds. The scent of burnt flesh rose almost overpowering the smell of coagulating blood on the floor. The silvered ports glowed on the skin, before the remaining oxygenated fluids stained them red. The bright crimson liquid absorbed by the hot quicksilver resulting in a beautiful mixture of silver perfection and unsightly organic. The resulting set up, however crude and messy was an adequate solution provided it worked.
"Barricade."
While there was no love lost between them, the cruiser was duty bound to at least listen to the seeker’s orders. Stalking forward, he inspected the barely conscious human. The soft flesh was coated in blood, it contrasted sharply with the sigils burnt into him. With the boy weak and helpless before him Barricade had to repress the urge to kill him. Glancing to Starscream he casually informed him that he wasn’t impressed.
"I don’t care about that! I want you to test them."
Flashing his optics at the seeker the Decepticon finally submitted and did as he was told. With luck he could easily overload and terminate the human. Megatron wouldn’t be pleased, but Starscream would indeed take the blame for this failure. It would be a good way to end the day. Extending his own data access jack into the first port of the human’s spine he began exploring.
( S1 Burnt Out )
( S2 Melt down)
( S3 Re Boot)
( S4: Up Load )
(S5: Hack n Slash)
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect. Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks!
A:N This fic has been my baby for a while now and I really appreciate all the feedback I’ve received. Feel free to leave a comment with anything. Be it request, ideas or just speculation. I want to know what you think. Thanks to Dragoona and Tsumiden. You guys are the best. This chapter is dedicated to Muzai .( Happy 21st baby, you’ve come a long way.)!
(And to those who might not have been paying attention this chapter is rated (M)
To all who read this Enjoy
Sparks 6
Jacked In
666666
Stuck in the deranged police cruiser, Sam kicked the back of the driver’s seat demanding his freedom. Barricade responded by shifting gears and increasing his speed over the cracked streets. Outside the window the scenery whipped by them, the Decepticon’s sirens screaming the whole way. Stuck along for the ride Sam alternated between pounding on the windows and digging his house keys into the leather seats, trying to stop his kidnapping-in-progress. The traditional divider was missing in the Deception’s alternate mode so there was nothing to stop the teen from making his way into the front seats.
Weaving between a truck and the meridian the Barricade sped up, the force of the velocity nearly flattening the teen to the back-seat. Unwilling to give up Sam knelt instead, with the minor shift of equilibrium he was able to half crawl, half drag himself between the front seats.
Digging his fingers into the headrests the teen rose into a crouch. Precariously balanced, he slammed his foot hard against the gearshift throwing the car immediately into chaos. The forced gears shifting made an awful grating sound as the cruiser slammed into reverse. Almost as quickly the brakes engaged, the evil alien car halting in its tracks. Slamming against the dashboard, Samuel was painfully aware of the horns and squealing tires of the other cars on the road.
Scrabbling at the steering wheel he clung to it and the gearshift pulling his way into the driver’s seat.
Between his fingers the gearshift moved again, heedless of his vice-like grip. The engine revved again and the car took off. Staring out the windshield Witwicky gritted his teeth and hung on. Switching lanes Barricade whipped past a semi and in front of a school bus filled with kids. Kicking the dashboard as they passed the exit for Mission City, Sam swore again toed his foot toward the brake.
All at once fingers curled about his throat cutting off the air to his lungs.
Above Sam’s body appeared the not quite-real-representation of the Police car. Blond hair stuck out oddly from the black cap on his head and the almost handsome face twisted with concentration as he attempted to wring the life from the boy. The non-biological strangling him settled heavily over his body, a knee digging painfully into his groin. That discomfort was minor compared to the denial of oxygen to his systems. It hurt, by god it hurt. He was dying, again. He had to escape, had to stop it.
Striking the firm body pinning him, Sam aimed for vital organs and the sneering face. It did him no good, the nails dug in bruising the soft flesh of his neck. Gasping for air Sam railed against his attacker clawing at the strong hands about his throat, he tried to escape; tried to fight and above all else survive.
The assault continued, the Decepticon weaving on the road; choking the life from its human passenger.
If he was going to be such a nuisance he was far better off dead.
Megatron would not be pleased, but the lure of ending Witwicky’s life was far to tempting for him to pass up. Tightening his grip slowly he could feel the soft tissues beneath his fingers, the adrenaline surging through the organic system. Against his grip the pitiful little thing writhed, tragically unable to protect itself. The human’s terror flowed off of him in waves; the pain twisted features would be etched in Barricade’s optics until the day he off-lined permanently. Oh, this he would enjoy.
Sam gasped again, his strength failing him in the end. Unable to even scream he stared at the glowing red eyes of his murderer. He stared, imprinting the last humanoid face he’d ever see. He stared until his eyes watered. He stared until his vision swam and his heart raced. Flickering red light danced before his eyes and he sagged in the chair, his chest burning. He was briefly aware of painful laughter as everything began to fade.
666666
Frenzy paced the walls of his tiny prison hissing as he moved. Here he was, held captive by the Autobots, locked away until they could figure out what to do with him. As if he a Deception would submit to their pretty little ideals of peace and love. Locked away in a little box, it was not the worst punishment he’d ever received. Megatron would do worse for a mech that failed him on a regular basis. Imprisoned, it wasn’t death, but it was a long way from failure. He was at the least still functioning. That was far better than most of his companions.
The slagging Autobots had him trapped in the middle of nowhere. Miles beneath the surface of the Earth encased in a box of steel, encased in concrete. He’d already attempted escape, but he was certainly not the burrowing sort of machine. That was better left to Blackout’s drone Scorponok. Rolling and twisting in the four by four space the mini-con snarled. There was barely enough room for him to maneuver or even fully stretch. The Autobots had grasped the concept of psychological torture all to well. It was probably the big brute’s idea. Ironhide had a severe dislike of Decepticons. Smashing his head into the wall, the mech swore loud in three incomprehensible languages. He couldn’t even access a satellite. The absolutely worst thing about the situation was the silence. He could handle being frozen, he could handle not knowing if he would awaken or not. What he could not stand was the silence, the lack of any signal at all, friendly or otherwise.
Clawing his little coffin he briefly considered off-lining himself, just for something to do. The Autobots would just love that. Oh they would squirm at the sight of his limp, silent body. They’d probably even try to save him. As tempting as the thought was he had neither the tools nor skills to make sure his "suicide" wasn’t permanent. No matter how bored he was, Frenzy was not about to give the Autobots the pleasure of watching him break. He’d sooner convert to their side and help the stupid fleshy insects.
The irony of the concept was not lost on him. He knew very well that his appearance was rather comparable to an insectoid species that inhabited the Primus forsaken ball filled with dirt, water and plants.
It wasn’t as if the measly creatures weren’t killing it off themselves. Dropping to the impenetrable surface of his new home, he curled up chittering to himself. It was best to give up and go crazy from the beginning of the isolation. More of a chance to inflict chaos and torment on whomever came to inspect him first.
Whoever releases me after three hundred years or something like that he thought angrily. It was a stupid fleshy saying, but in the particular situation it was perfectly acceptable.
666666
Mikaela ducked the missile aimed at her and slipped into the alley. This was not what she needed today. Flicking open her cell she called for help, again. The suspect vehicle she’d been tailing had suddenly turned on her, its wheels spinning as she scrambled for cover.
Fleeing the territorial rage of an as-of-the-moment unidentified Cybertronian Mikaela Banes nearly had a heart attack. There in the alley, she stumbled into was the very truck she’d used during the Mission City battle to save Bumblebee. The paint job needed some work and the window was covered in plastic and tape, but she was convinced it was the most beautiful vehicle she’d ever seen in her life.
Rushing to the white Ford, the young woman smoothed her hand along the driver’s side door.
"I am so glad to see you. Remember me?"
She cut the plastic right down the middle and reached inside the parked truck.
She’d would totally call Mike’s towing and reimburse them or something, somehow, but now was really not the time. Hell she didn’t even know why she was talking to the truck itself. Maybe it was the panic maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact she had a close bond with giant alien cars or maybe it wasn’t
She would deal with it later.
"Listen, I’m in a bit of a jam and I need your help again. I promise I’ll make it up to you. If only you’d jus-"
Just as before the rumbling of the engine was music to her ears. Slipping to the driver seat she grinned at the Déjà vu and put the truck in gear. She cut it a bit close, but pulled out into the street accelerating past her pursuer. Thankful for small miracles she kissed the steering wheel between her fingers and headed out of the city.
666666
Miles took a deep breath as Trent raged. Tipped on the sidewalk was his "precious baby" and all he did was scream. What a baby. The engine was still running, despite the fact the vehicle was upside down. Half on the sidewalk, crushing a parking meter the blue Hummer had a cracked window on one side and a major dent on the other. The driver’s side door was practically inverted on it’s hinge and the weight of the vehicle was crushing the frame further into the pavement. Unable to do anything the jock tried calling the insurance company again. They’d hung up on him the first time.
It wasn’t that Miles didn’t sympathize with the young man. There were just more important things to be worrying about like Sam.
"Fuck!" Miles shouted balling his fists.
How could this have happened?
He had just gotten Sam back, only to have him ripped away days later. It was the beginning of a cruel vicious cycle. He was definitely reconsidering his stance on illegal aliens, the robotic transforming kind.
This was definitely not good. He couldn’t panic. He had to calm down for Sam’s sake. He had to think.
Still lamenting the fate of his "baby" DeMarco furiously turned on him.
"This is your fault!"
Already frustrated the blond absolutely refused to take his bait.
He wasn’t going to take it. Not at all. Sam needed him more than Trent needed as crash course in common decency.
"I’m talking to you fairy. It’s a wonder you didn’t get arrested for crimes against humanity."
Clenching his fists, Miles held firm to his beliefs. He was not about to let DeMarco get to him.
He’d survived classes with him for years. Five minutes was nothing.
"DeMarco I don’t have time for this."
"What’s wrong, afraid they’ll have your little boyfriend before you do?"
Slapping his hand over his face he tried another tactic.
"You just don’t get it do you? That was not a police officer. Hell that wasn’t even a real car!’
Trent stared at him for a full four seconds before looking back to his cell. He turning he muttered something about insurance and triple A.
Miles groaned, he wasn’t even sure why he was still standing there. Things were happening too fast and he didn’t know what to do... Sam was depending on him to help or at least get the "The Car".
And there he was trying to prove something to Trent freakin’ DeMarco. Some help he was.
"Give me your phone!"
"What?"
"Give me your phone!"
Trent lowered his sunglasses, narrowing his eyes in an implied threat.
Miles was no where near as impressed as he used to be and he wasn’t surprised.
"Give me your phone. It’s a matter of life or death!"
Moving back to the upside down blue Hummer, Trent refused.
Again the exasperated teen wasn’t surprised.
"Okay let me put this in tiny words that even you can understand. If you don’t give me the phone right now, the Decepticons are going to get away with this and Sam will mostly likely die!"
Covering the phone, Trent gave the little homo-freak a withering stare.
"So?"
If possible Lancaster looked even more pathetic than he usually did.
"Sam. Will. Die!"
"And that’s my problem how again?"
The clenched fists and the set of Lancaster’s jaw briefly reminded the jock of that day on his porch six years prior. Stepping back from the fuming young man Trent hoped desperately that the freak wouldn’t try to kiss him again.
Miles took two steps forward, peaceful mantra forgotten in his rage. That fucking jerk was going to get a piece of his mind. He stopped dead as the bright blue Hummer began to shudder. Every curse, threat and complaint died on his lips as the previously tipped vehicle unfolded into a rather familiar shape. Well sort of.
In the middle of downtown Tranquility in broad daylight the Autobot, at least he hoped it was an Autobot was transforming. Behind them patrons filed out of a shop staring in horror. Briefly reminded of the Mission City Incident Miles sighed. Further down the block someone screamed and cars screeched to a halt. Panic seemed to set in their audience seemed to disburse in a mass of screaming people. Surprised but almost relieved the teen turned back to the car.
The doors slid away as the bumper shifted upward, the pieces rearranging themselves into a new figure.
The torso was broader and rounder than Bumblebee’s; the alien was definitely taller as well. The gray-silver shades meshed perfectly along the long legs and curled up its sides and shoulders. There was an odd sort of beauty in the machine lying on the ground. It had to be twenty feet at the least. Rolling over in the street, it loomed over them, its optics brightening.
"Tell me you didn’t just say Decepticons."
It was then Trent began screaming, again. Dropping to his butt, his mouth fell open as he stared up at the creature that used to be his precious baby. Miles nodded solemnly and snatched the cell phone from his fingers.
"Fraid I did… ma’am."
Ma’am, it was obviously feminine, her voice too sweet and sensuous to be anything else.
His eyes roamed back over her chassis and he this time he had no doubt she was a female of the alien species.
"Chromia." she corrected softly, her tone affecting a southern lilt.
Nodding, he turned back to the phone hunting for a particular number.
If they were going to handle the situation, they were going to need help.
Recovering from the shock, DeMarco finally stood pulling the sunglasses from his face.
"You can talk?"
"I can do more than just that." she purred leaning closer.
Unnerved he almost stepped back, but his eyes caught the Hummer symbol on her arm.
She was his car. His car. Oh Boy. His car was that thing…. Chromia he corrected himself, she was his car.
Slowly almost against his will, he reached out to touch her.
Somewhere beyond his field of vision, he heard Miles talking to himself.
"-no not there, then she must be under… ah ha, Bunny!"
Confused, Trent stared at the machine unable to say anything, well unable to say anything of consequence.
That living breathing car thing was his. The giant car was his…
"Bunny?" he repeated dumbly from his robotic induced stupor. She laughed leaning close enough for him see his own startled reflection in her panels. The bright optics flicker in what he assumed was a wink.
"Yeah honey?"
666666
Fear invaded his overwhelmed senses and Sam tried to sit up. A spasm of pain rippled through him and he winced. A quick glance and he ascertained three things about his surroundings.
One, he was currently in an abandoned warehouse, two he was surrounded by Decepticons and three the floor was covered in blood. A wave of nausea struck him hard and he covered his mouth trembling on the cold floor. Barricade loomed over him, optics glinting.
Scuttling back across the floor, his hands found a bit of stray tubing, curling his fingers about it he rose to his feet and swung. An offhanded blow knocked easily from his feet. Moving back, he avoided the fist slamming into the wall of the "base". Fury etched into the mech’s features as his claws closed over the fleshling on the floor.
"If you ever interfere with me again, I will make you suffer as you beg for death."
Squirming under the rumbling Decepticon, Samuel was only too happy allow his displeasure to be known.
The saliva trailing down the enraged shock trooper’s face was by far the last straw.
Digging his fingers into the soft flesh the Decepticon hauled the boy from the floor; he slammed down hard, knocking the air from his lungs. Coughing and sputtering the human struggled trying anything that would dislodge himself from its grasp.
His attempts were ineffective, but still he tried earning a cruel chuckle from the transformed police cruiser.
"You wouldn’t dare." His rasped words rung with false bravado, but the mech was not impressed.
"Your mere presence here is enough to make the Autobots suffer more than just killing you outright."
The snarled words rumbled over him, as the Decepticon tore at the fabric and flesh over his torso.
He winced again the fingers clawing at the metal pinning him, desperate for some sort of escape. The claws enveloping him squeezed just a little harder. "Your condition however is negotiable."
"Barricade." The command in that voice stilled the alien-robot intent on killing him.
Squirming in the tight grasp Sam caught sight of his savior. Megatron, the harbinger of death and evil megalomaniac moved closer, the other robots parting before him. Sam found himself dropped back onto the cold floor, not that he was thinking about that, the shooting pain in his side was enough to distract him from almost anything. A ten foot drop could do that to you and it didn’t help when the human was forced to his knees before the Lord and Master of the Decepticon force. Staring up at the giant walking nightmare, Sam trembled.
"You, pathetic insect that wrested my victory from me."
Sharp talons raked across his back tearing both fabric and skin. Hissing in pain, teen wobbled falling forward to his hands; even so he could not wrest his gaze from the eyes glowing in the dark.
A single claw skimmed up his torso lifting his chin.
"Tell me how you wish to die."
666666
Ironhide pulled out of the Hoover Dam motor pool and followed the speeding yellow Camaro closely.
Bumblebee had been petty but had preformed his duties as ordered by his commander, nothing more could have been expected of him. If the Autobots were to remain on the third planet in the Sol system they had to make peace with the natives. Even if they didn’t particularly care for them.
Reginald Simmons was quite possibly the most irritating human he’d ever met, but even he could change. He’d been faultlessly polite, even going so far as to inquiring about their well-being. While Ironhide hadn’t cared to respond he could respect the sentiment.
The junior officer on the other hand took the moment to express himself in his own endearing fashion.
"Well, I'm not okay, I'm not o-fucking-kay"
The operative stepped back choking on his words. The scout had been smug until informed that Optimus would hear of his stunt. He’d refrained from pulling that particular trick again, but the meeting had gone down hill from there.
Attempting to humor the yellow mech and keeping the meeting peaceful was a full time responsibility,
Optimus probably should have sent Ratchet, but he hadn’t and Ironhide would go willingly to the pit before he failed his commander. They’d been reacquainted with the command structure and the ranking personnel.
The humans Maggie Madsen and Glenn Whitmann had been pleasant to interact with, the female had gone so far as to asking permission to touch Bumblebee. He’d almost refused her, having formed an attachment with another human already, but he’d finally relented when she insisted it would be a hands only sort of thing. Mr. Whitmann had only watched, at one point he mumbling something about hot women and hot cars. She’d glared at the comment, but Bumblebee chirped in agreement.
Getting back on topic, the Autobots were introduced to the few Earth-born Cybertronians in protective custody. The seven-foot tall, four armed, soft drink dispensing creature known as Dewbot was polite and unexpectedly brilliant. Bumblebee unfortunately made the mistake of calling it cute in their native tongue. In response Dewbot analyzed his statement, downloaded the language samples isolated from the Decepticons in the Qatar base and Air Force One attacks, translated the information, pieced together their basic alphabet and simply told the Camaro exactly where he could shove it. All of that was done in the forty-five seconds it took to give Glenn a soda. Ironhide liked him already.
In the end, the overall progress was acceptable. While their previous methods had been undesirable the honesty the agency presented was admirable. It almost made him ignore what they were hiding. Simmons was dedicated man, but he had his pride. In the end, his results would justify his means, no matter who got hurt. Bumblebee was proof.
Ironhide rumbled and sped up passing a few drivers to reach his charge. "Slow your roll, kid, this isn’t a race."
Bumblebee made to respond, but something drew his attention.
Scanning the surrounding area he discovered something of interest. Relaying the information to the Topkick, he whipped across three lanes of freeway traffic and made for the off ramp.
Blaring his horn the black truck followed, texting Will on the way, he’d be late getting home.
666666
So maybe going out to the middle of nowhere was the worst idea she’d ever had, save for her tragic choice of boyfriends. In her humble opinion, life kind of sucked. Dangling upside down from her seatbelt Mikaela Banes was not panicking. Glancing out the nonexistent window she caught sight of the mech stomping towards her. Smothering curses she rattled her seatbelt, struggling for freedom.
With each step it took the earth shook and the white pickup wobbled dangerously. Finally working her way free, she patted the wheel in appreciation and apology. Crawling from the wreckage she wiped the blood from her arm and made for the pseudo-safety of the hills. If she could just get away from the car stalking her, she might have a chance. Skirting the smoking crater the F350 had flipped into she ran and didn’t look back.
For the second time in her life things exploded, bits of rubble flew through the air, and Mikaela found herself lifted from her feet. Screaming hysterically, she struggled in the large fingers pounding and kicking her captor. Steeling herself, Mikaela looked up to see what had just happened. On the ground twitching was her pursuer with a sizable hole blown in it chest.
Holding her in his hand, on the other hand was quite possible the most beautiful mech she’d ever seen.
The blue and white head moved forward his silver faceplate nearly touching her trembling body.
"Are you alright?"
Blinking rapidly she stepped across his hand embracing his face.
"I am more that alright. You just saved my life."
Thank god for small miracles, no scratch that. Thank god for large miracles that came in the shape of giant-alien-robots. As she held him, she could hear the whirring of the joints and mechanic bits inside.
"You asked me for help."
Releasing him finally she managed a bright smile. "That I did and you so came through. You are totally my hero."
The remarked seemed to surprise him, but he nodded his assent.
The sound of tires kicking up gravel came closer and two familiar figures made their appearance. The yellow Camaro stopped short as the truck lowered Mikaela to the ground. Smiling she waved to him and Ironhide as he came closer.
"Mikaela?"
"You would not believe the day I’ve had."
The mechs looked briefly to the wreckage in the dust. Bumblebee honked in reply.
"Ok so maybe you would."
Behind her the truck shifted back into his slightly abused alt. Ironhide moved closer ready to attack.
"Is this guy a friend of yours?"
She never got the chance to answer as her cell began to ring. Rolling her eyes at the name in the caller id, she considered ignoring it. Practicality however won out. She moved away from the circle of vehicles to answer the caller. As she departed the Aliens took the time to introduce themselves.
"Ironhide and Bumblebee, Cybertron"
"Long Arm, Earth,"
They didn’t get much further than that because Mikaela’s voice suddenly got louder.
"Why the hell are you on Trent’s phone? What about Sam?"
666666
It had happened so fast. The claws had trapped him again and he’d screamed. The human’s struggles were in vain as he was lifted from the floor. In brief moments before his execution something unexpected happened. His much-abused shirt finally gave out, splitting right down the back dropping him again to the floor. Once again denied his malicious entertainment the Decepticon leader tossed the torn fabric away reaching for the stunned human. Just before his talons pierced the supple flesh a single light caught the lines decorating his pale torso. All at once the assorted alien menace started. Their optics processed the marks and analyzing them as they all reached the same conclusion.
"The All Spark."
Sam trembled under their scrutiny and Megatron loomed closer. For the second time in so many days he feared for his life. The claws touched him again, a firm pressure on his torso but nothing more. His heart pounded in his chest, it was almost louder than the buzz in his ears. Another poke and he swayed on his feet, the buzzing became louder and his vision swam. Another poke and he wobbled suddenly dizzy, unable to remain standing.
When he finally fell, no one cared. All optics turned to Megatron fearful and apprehensive.
"It is the All Spark, but it is useless to me in that pathetic shell." Scrutinizing the Mechs before him he continued. " Starscream, remove the cube or find a way to harness its power. Do not fail me again."
Scowling at the weak boy on the floor the Air Commander could only reply favorably.
"Yes my Lord Megatron."
Turning suddenly the seeker swept from the room snapping at the subordinates as he moved.
"Barricade! Bring the human."
Seizing the limp youth for the second time that evening the cruiser followed the fuming mech.
Dangling from the mechanical digits Sam could do nothing but groan. Somehow he knew his new situation was potentially worse than death.
The room was cold and filled with twisted machines and broken metal. In the corner he caught sight of the mangled bits of a Decepticon on a table. Crossing the threshold Barricade deposited him none too gently on another table. Scrambling away from his tormenter the human was surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else. The shorter machine moved along the floor its segmented tail swinging as it climbed up the table.
Scooting to the center of the platform, the human looked about his primitive organic optics searching for any escape. Starscream briefly allowed it to cling to its foundling hope before crushing that too. Slamming a claw against the metal he knocked the weakling’s legs from under it. Scorponok chittered moving along the edge scanning the human carefully. Turning to its superior it simply transmitted the information it ascertained. ‘Lord Megatron can not control it because the system is not compatible. There is nothing in the organic that can be used to access the All Spark, better to remove it than keep the fleshy thing.’
Responding in English, Starscream refused. "There must be some sort of upgrade to allow us to utilize its primitive systems. If there wasn’t the All Spark would not have bonded with it."
Scanning the terrified human again and comparable medical data from the Internet, the scorpion did indeed find a solution. Relaying the data to the Air Commander it awaited his approval. Tapping his claws on the table, Starscream couldn’t have been more pleased with the turn of events if he’d slammed the All Spark into the fleshling himself. "Acceptable, Proceed"
Shivering on the long table Sam jumped as the massive claw of the F-22 slammed beside him. At the other end of the table the metal scorpion moved closer, a thin needle extending from the tip of its tail. Trapped between two Decepticons, Sam stood hands clenched. He was not going down without a fight; he’d fought them before. The creature struck fast, faster than he could see. Instinctively throwing himself to the table, he avoided the first attack but not the second. The stinger impaled his raised arm at the wrist splattering his blood everywhere. Just as quickly it withdrew, the mech hissing incomprehensibly. Choking back his screams, Sam briefly saw the tail rise again. On his knees all he could do was try to protect himself. The third blow caught his other arm almost in the same place, its removal spun him about knocking him to his belly, blood pooling beneath his arms.
Barricade watched from the door with detached amusement. The human screamed and fought, failed and bled. Struggling to escape, the fourth strike caught him in the back and the fifth pierced the flesh below his throat. Blood dribbled over the edge of the table staining the floor. Avoiding the growing puddle. Starscream inspected the drone’s handiwork. While this method was unorthodox it would allow them to utilize the All Spark in its current incarnation.
As Samuel writhed in pain clutching his throat the Decepticons worked. Holding the teen down they wired a simple synaptic network into his nervous system. Heedless of the boy’s wails, the Air Commander oversaw the insertion of accompanying neural access ports. Applied directly to the skin the ports sealed and cauterized the oozing wounds. The scent of burnt flesh rose almost overpowering the smell of coagulating blood on the floor. The silvered ports glowed on the skin, before the remaining oxygenated fluids stained them red. The bright crimson liquid absorbed by the hot quicksilver resulting in a beautiful mixture of silver perfection and unsightly organic. The resulting set up, however crude and messy was an adequate solution provided it worked.
"Barricade."
While there was no love lost between them, the cruiser was duty bound to at least listen to the seeker’s orders. Stalking forward, he inspected the barely conscious human. The soft flesh was coated in blood, it contrasted sharply with the sigils burnt into him. With the boy weak and helpless before him Barricade had to repress the urge to kill him. Glancing to Starscream he casually informed him that he wasn’t impressed.
"I don’t care about that! I want you to test them."
Flashing his optics at the seeker the Decepticon finally submitted and did as he was told. With luck he could easily overload and terminate the human. Megatron wouldn’t be pleased, but Starscream would indeed take the blame for this failure. It would be a good way to end the day. Extending his own data access jack into the first port of the human’s spine he began exploring.
( S1 Burnt Out )
( S2 Melt down)
( S3 Re Boot)
( S4: Up Load )
(S5: Hack n Slash)