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Characters: @pharma Location: Outside Autobot Outpost Omega-1 Content Warnings: n/a Plot Summary: A chance encounter on a routine patrol sees a neutral and an autobot meeting for the first time.
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
It was a good feeling, being repaired enough to do patrols further afield once again. He remained as inconspicuous as he could, maintaining a civilian altmode to keep from alerting the Autobots to his presence. He didn't harass the locals, and certainly tried to stay far away from where his former enemies made their base. Neutral or not, they might still shoot him on sight for things he'd done in the past. He no longer served Lord Megatron, but to some that meant nothing. He'd still killed on command and remained a frontline fighter at spark.
Today, however, was a little different.
He'd come far closer to the Autobot Outpost than he'd ever dared to before, and it was all in the name of a simple patrol. He wasn't trying to draw their attention, but he was curious. He'd heard they had sparklings running around on base now, something he hadn't seen in the longest time. But it was more than the chance to get a glimpse of the tiny young of their race. He was being drawn towards the base, over and over again. He didn't know why, or what was going on, but the compulsion was getting stronger the closer to the second month of this planet's year they came. Like something there needed his attention.
Thanks to the intervention of a strange femme, he could creep in this close. He was on guard, but he had no intention of being caught. Or of causing trouble. If an Autobot happened to see him, he'd first pretend he was a civilian vehicle, and failing that, try and be as polite as he knew how to be.
@pharma
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
Pharma himself had needed a little time out and about to get his bearings. He told himself that but it was more than that. If he stayed inside too long, he got claustrophobic. Vosians longed for the sky intensely, even if they didn't want to take flight in general. Not to mention, he found, he needed the occasional moments away from Sagitta. To trust someone like Ratchet with her care so he didn't smother her too much.
Smother. That's what they called it, right? When a parent was far too attached to a child for the parent's own good? Even if it was for a good reason that Pharma felt was perfectly valid? He seemed to murmur to himself, something about maybe taking a nice flight. But he didn't feel up to flight.
Okay, maybe he was a little paranoid about flight too. Decepticons did love to pluck unsuspecting Autobots out of the air, after all. That was a lesson he had learned all too harshly at Delphi Medical Center.
His scanners caught the Autobot symbol and the hunter paused as he noted it. He wasn't sure who it was, and didn't want to get close enough to find out. But...was it just him or did this Autobot seem on edge even so close to his base? What could possibly be so bad under the protection of the nearby outpost?
He actually scanned the mech from his position, wondering if he was in some form of distress. Barricade parked, still well out of the way. Well, now his curiousity was perked. Didn't the Autobots take proper care of their own? The mech seemed stressed out over something, and he didn't even have to know him to see it. Mech had wings, he noted. Really big for a seeker, but he was used to Starscream's like so that wasn't saying much. A memory of another flier in distress hit him and he vented. Well, there went his not letting them know he was around.
::What ails you seeker?:: He asked it quietly, making sure to keep his scanners on full in case the other called the base to get someone out there to shoot at him. He wasn't being threatening, but he wasn't going to trust his safety here either.
@pharma
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
On edge? Oh, that was putting it mildly, to be fair. Ever since he had been on the Nemesis he had been more than a little paranoid of what would be happening. He had no idea where the warship or the Peaceful Tyranny might be.
He seemed to wring his digits. Who knew where the Decepticon Justice Division was? Not to mention, was Sagitta okay? Was she going to be panicking and upset if he was away for too long? His wings seemed to arch back slightly. He seemed to prick upright and shivered slightly, swallowing.
::Wh-who are you?:: He answered hesitantly. ::I...I just don't want to encounter any Decepticons that might be nearby...::
He kept a close watch on the mech, noting how he fidgeted and wrung at his hands. Clearly traumatized, if he was any judge of such things. A mech as big as he was shouldn't have to be afraid of anything, but then he wasn't a Decepticon. Autobots were generally gentle sparks by their very nature, she couldn't really be surprised. Barricade focused on body language, on what he could learn just by observation. He had no wish to test if the mech was violent or not, and thus kept his distance.
::Then it is a good thing that I am not a Decepticon.:: He quipped out, settling low on his shocks. Well, it was better than being stuck at home. He did need some interaction with his own kind, and Pulsar definitely wasn't that. ::Neutral faction, designation Barricade. I mean no harm, I was just patrolling around and noticed you. You seemed in distress, even this close to your base. I was...curious? Concerned perhaps. I have not been around my own kind in some time, so it is hard for me to tell sometimes.::
He vented and shifted again, long dormant enforcer routines starting to pick at him. ::Do you...require assistance?:: It had been a long time since he felt the urge to help another of his kind, since war and Megatron's rules kept him from acting like he had once been. He was not a nice mech by any means, but he was a protector. Enforcers were made to protect the populace, even if his general disposition meant he didn't always come off as the type.
@pharma
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
Oh, Pharma had once been a gentle spark, if not a little arrogant. Even now he did have times of complete arrogance, mostly in the medibay. But gentleness was not something he could afford anymore. His wings seemed to always be moving as though to try to gauge his surroundings.
::To be honest, even now I'm wary. There are Decepticons here that...are beyond the norm for both power and viciousness. The worst of the worst.:: He wasn't about to dare to mention their particular unit, for fear that if he mentioned them, it would summon them to converge on him after not one, but two escapes from them in his lifetime.
::No offense but I don't think you'd be able to take them...:: He didn't want to offend, but he knew the Decepticon Justice Division. He knew them intimately, in fact, having experienced their cruelty firsthand.
Hmmm....so his issue was one of old memories than a current threat. Not really something a mech like Barricade could deal with. He was ill equipped to deal with a matter of trauma. But he could at least try and distract this seeker. He did wonder why it was the other wasn't flying around. Didn't flying usually help those with wings?
And the way he discussed the ones that were worrying him told him more than words could. He was a defector from the Decepticon army, he knew exactly who could come after him if they ever figured out where he was. It was why he'd changed his altmode so drastically and stayed away from more public locations. The last thing he needed was to be seen on camera somewhere by someone that could identify him. Especially if he were to get into a fight. He was a nobody, just a soldier, but no one defected from Megatron's army and lived long. He was only lucky he'd gone unnoticed so long.
::And is it, perhaps, that you worry that they could find you again? That you are not safe even here with those of your own faction?:: He vented, knowing exactly who the other was talking about. ::I doubt I could do much to deter them should they come after me or you, but that is not happening now. They are not here. I was a soldier, I know exactly how the world works when one is at war. But you have wings. In a way are those wings not your greatest strength, above all else?::
A flier could maneuver their way out of far more situations than one like him that was stuck on the ground. He'd never wanted wings and never would, but this wasn't about him. It was about doing as an Enforcer should, helping someone who was in need feel like they could either be safe or make themselves safe.
He vented again, wondering why he was even bothering. Except...except it felt good to return to his original purpose after so long of being something else. ::I do not know you, and of course my word and thoughts mean nothing out of context, but it is what it is. On Cybertron I was an enforcer, and now so many years later I find myself wanting to help.::
Flight, his biggest strength? Maybe. As long as he knew where the Nemesis, and by extension, the Peaceful Tyranny were. He just didn't want to cross paths with them. He didn't want to and he didn't know where the ships, together, were. ::...perhaps. As long as I...know the location of the Decepticon flagships to avoid them.::
He then gave a wry chuckle. ::...much like a medic is drawn to helping. Guess those of us in caring professions don't stray far from our roots.:: He knew he had though. Red Rust still haunted him to this day. Medics were supposed to heal, not kill! ::I suppose it's also a way of atonement?::
:: I usually find I am safest where I have chosen to settle. There is not much that can get through the full armament of the Harbinger. :: And it was well known that the fallen Decepticon warship was on Earth somewhere. Rather or not it was known that neutrals had made it their home was another matter. Didn't matter to him, he knew that ship inside and out and would use every defense available from it and to himself to keep it.
He sighed and shifted on his wheels. This was the longest conversation he'd had with an Autobot since he'd last seen the spy Jazz. He did understand feeling as though one would never be safe again. Usually, that left an Enforcer to assist in some ways, or for the Enforcer to bring the one in need of safety somewhere they could find it. In this case, among Autobots, what could he do?
:: I never wanted to be involved in some of the things Megatron put his soldiers to. I also never enjoyed being treated as disposable. Foot soldiers, even good ones, are disposable. Cannon fodder while those in power make their way to those of opposing power to clash. I never wanted to lead, so it is not that, I just wanted what I did to mean more than pointless death. :: He wondered why he was even discussing this with this Autobot, but perhaps it was because, as Pharma said, he was seeking atonement.
:: I do not wish to join a faction again, one way or the other. At least not at this juncture. However....patrolling the area, providing what aid I can without showing myself, that has been a great relief to me. :: He snorted at himself. :: Bah, listen to me, you would think I was higher born than I am. The point is, medic, that I was made to protect, and being denied that for so long never sat well. So, even if I have no means to really help you, perhaps talking for a little while with me will provide some small measure of comfort to you. ::
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
Safe. A word that Pharma didn't know the meaning of anymore. As long as the Decepticon Justice Division lived, he was never safe. They were always present, if not physically, in his processor. ::You're sure? Even, say, scores of electricity or dual fusion cannon blasts?:: It wasn't that he didn't believe that Barricade could keep them out but the Decepticon Justice Division seemed almost undefeatable to him. Even when they were down in numbers at times, they managed to do things without trying. ::I mean no offense, of course. Others often take offense at any word I say.::
A despairing laugh cut through the comm. Pharma remembered all too well. ::It seems only his elite team and his handpicked kill-squadron are immune to that treatment. If anything...the latter seems to be praised and lauded, treated like his little lapdogs. And if...If you're an ex-Decepticon as you say, you ought to watch out for them in case.:: He seemed almost paranoid on Barricade's behalf, and not just his own. ::I pray you're shielded from the Justice Division in some way.:: His voice had gotten soft, terrified. Perhaps this was a hint to what was happening with the medic who had become almost paranoid? No, not perhaps. This had to be it.
::You know, you're the first other than my protege to bother talking like this. Like an equal, not like you're better than me, or patronizing me.::
::At my last check nothing here could get through the Harbinger's shields. I believe if they brought the armament of the Peaceful Tyranny against it the ship would fall, but against the individuals themselves most likely I am safe. Besides, if they were going to come after me they would have done it by now.:: He vented, realizing exactly why it was it seemed like this Autobot couldn't find safety with his own kind. They ignored or berated his worries and fears, the exact opposite thing you were supposed to do with someone that was traumatized and looking for help.
::You mean no offense so none was taken. Anyone who makes a big deal out of nothing is simply looking for a reason to complain. It seems to me that your fellows do not think very highly at you at all despite their words if they fail to listen to you. You are a medic of some significant training and experience, why would you ever say or do something that was not worth hearing or listening to?::
For some reason Barricade did not like hearing the tone of the medic over the comms. Of course, it probably had much to do with the way he'd been made. He was an enforcer, and this mech was basically begging someone to help him, to just listen. Being here, just talking, was closer to his natural purpose than he'd been in a very long time.
::I do not matter enough for them to come after me. As I said, I was nothing, a nobody. A soldier among the hoards of them. Useful only so long as I remained functional then discarded and forgotten.:: He paused, venting again and rolling forward and back as his engine idled. He hadn't had the chance to sit and talk with another Cybertronian like this since...well for as long back as he could remember. Jazz aside, he had not been social to his own comrades when he'd been a Decepticon. You didn't make friends in Megatron's army, not when each battle could be your last. It was just how things were done.
::My memory is corrupted. I have no idea how I ended up on this planet. My first conscious memory is coming online on the run with my chassis collapsed and my spark in immanent danger of full failure. I knew Megatron had done the damage to me, that I was no longer one of his soldiers, but I never remembered why or how it had come to be. That has been years by the reckoning of this planet. They have not tried the Harbinger yet, and I doubt they will. It is a safe place. You...:: Why did he feel as though it would be the right thing to offer this medic with a seeker's wings the ability to come to his refuge in order to perhaps help him feel safe again? Answer, because he still had a conscious after all this time and the war and his original programming demanded he do something. Protocol and instinct, and this mech seriously was in need of someone to protect him.
::Medic, I do not matter. They will never come for me. That being so, if for whatever reason you find yourself overwhelmed and simply in the need to be away from here you are welcome to my home. In the least no one would think an Autobot would visit or stay aboard a crashed Decepticon warship, so they would never come to look for you.:: They being the DJD rather than the Autobots.
::I have no room to be patronizing. You are not in the wrong, you are not being obnoxious or seeking attention for the sake of it. You honestly need someone to help you through this, and it seems as though no one, or not enough individuals, are listening or helping. I am not an Autobot, but I am an enforcer. I am someone who knows the path you are on now because I have seen it plenty of times before on Cybertron. Lost and fearing yourself permanentlybroken, and no one can hear you calling out for help because they fail to listen. Well, seeker, I am listening.::
Oh, it was more than that. He knew he had involvements in the past. ::I almost certainly fear they might. After all...:: He paused and shook his helm, venting softly. ::No, no. You don't need to hear about that. It's not important.:: His voice seemed to shake. The truth was, he was terrified of what might happen if Barricade found out of his past as well.
He couldn't leave this base. They were already suspicious of him. Of his past. He knew others were going to find out and he felt himself getting dizzy and more paranoid in the moment. What if this stranger knew his past. The Transformation Cogs, the Red Rust?
Once he had composed himself, he spoke softly. ::My path is one I hope no one ever finds themselves on. There's much I cannot say, but everything would fall apart in my life if others know.::
Dark secret. Bad too if his instinct was anything to go by. He'd been an enforcer long enough to trust those instincts. Something in the past more than likely, or his fellows would have sorted him by now. ::Your destroying yourself from the inside out holding it all in mech.:: His tone was soft, not condescending or judgmental, just soft, a quiet statement spoken through the comms. ::It is obviously very important if it has made it so that you, who have wings, fear to even tread the skies. Or is it not the secret at all, but the repercussions of what happened to you?::
He snorted, rolling forward and back again. ::I realize this is none of my business, but you have said no one else seems able to speak candidly to you outside your protege, so I shall be frank. Find someone to tell, to talk to about it. Someone who does not know you or your past and cannot or will not judge you for it. A seeker left grounded will go mad in the same way as one who was forged to protect will when forced to go against their natural programming.::
Barricade took a moment to reign himself in, wondering where the sudden need to comfort and help deal with the situation had come from. The long dormant protocols of an enforcer, of a mech forged and trained especially to protect, was something he thought lost a very long time ago. Lost to the brutality of war and what he'd done to stay alive within it.
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
It wasn't so easy to tell them. If he told, everything would come crashing down. ::You don't get it. This is something NO ONE must find out. NO ONE. I can't even let my Protege, the one I trust the most...I can't let him hear about it. Little audials are always listening. Or bigger ones...:: He then shivered. ::The repercussions are worse...way worse.::
He then gave a mirthless, pained laugh. ::I've been mad long before I avoided the skies. Some of us go mad from the revelation.:: This was the first he had ever spoken of something other than Delphi that had caused him great pain. ::It is best if you don't pursue why.::
He felt himself slowly drop for the time being, his frame giving out with exhaustion. He then murmured. ::If you saw me drop, don't worry, please don't worry. I'm just so damn old that sometimes my old frame gives out.::