On The Freedom Of Existence.
Chapter Two.
As Barricade's single functioning optic dimmed, and those parts of his body he had been able to tense and move relaxed, Ratchet grabbed Ironhide's cannon and pushed it away.
"Not in my medbay!" he growled. "He is no threat to anyone like that, can't you tell?" he asked. "Power down now!"
"You yourself said he appeared near death, and then suddenly he's moving and raising his hand to claw you!" Ironhide protested. "He was pretending, trying to lure you closer. Sounds like a perfectly laid trap to me, and you almost took the bait!"
Ratchet snorted. "You can start lecturing me on when someone's pretending to be ill once you qualify as a medic-mechanic and know what you're talking about!" Ratchet said. "Until then, please trust my diagnoses: you can no easier fake fatal processor damage than you can fake Spark-death, Ironhide." He sighed, looked at Optimus, then back at Ironhide, but speaking loud enough so that both could hear.
"I don't know what is going on, but my scans indicated a completely burned-out master processor." Ratchet explained. "When the master processor is destroyed, that's generally it: no personality, no understanding, no ability to learn. Spark-death is usually swift in following. Usually, if you reach them in time, the processor can be replaced, but there is almost always some change in personality, and often a lot of memory loss, some irreversible. I don't have a spare master processor to give him, and though I could build one, he'd likely be in such a bad way – if his Spark had not left his body already by then – that to keep him alive with it would be an unkindness: he would be unable to move, communicate, or take in fuel. That is no life." Ratchet sighed again, lowering his head. Then he looked up again, his optics glowing with hope.
"However, my recent interface confirms something is working in there." Ratchet continued. It may be he had a back-up, just in case something like this happened. Through the interface, I could sense a degree of cognition that suggests his life would be worth living if we can stabilise him and bring him back on-line. If he's got even the barest chance of survival, I want to give him that chance. Or would you rather we acted like Decepticons, and threw him out to die, maybe help him along with a well-aimed cannon blast, perhaps?" Ratchet asked.
Ironhide powered down his cannons, looked at the floor, and muttered something unintelligible: he hated the way Ratchet could, with a few well-chosen words, make him feel like a guilty Sparkling, especially considering he was quite a bit older than Ratchet.
"Well, it's just the sort of thing a sneaky 'con might have tried." He said.
"Your opinion has been noted and I assure you: I will not be taking any unnecessary risks." Ratchet said. "I shall be off-lining him to repair his systems, and then placing him in recharge on constant monitoring for twelve hours: I want you to have some restraints ready after ten of those hours, restraints that can be placed on him during the minute or so it takes most Cybertronians to come back on-line. Don't worry, just because Barricade is damaged does not mean that I shall underestimate him." Ratchet stated.
Ironhide nodded, and moved away to look through his supplies, calling Cliffjumper to come and assist him. Cliffjumper had been a craftsmech before the war had forced him to train as a scout. Ironhide had an idea for some simple restraints that could, with Cliffjumper's skills, be fashioned within the time Ratchet had specified.
Ratchet, for his part, had begun to work on Barricade's damaged systems, replacing burned-out wires and damaged parts.
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Several hours later, Ratchet had made all the repairs he could on the body, and had placed Barricade in recharge. Should Barricade survive, at some point, Ratchet knew, he would have to carry out a delicate operation involving going into Barricade's processors to remove some of the circuitry and delicate processor-structures that had been damaged in the latest battle he had engaged in, the same one that had resulted in him being brought to the Autobot med bay.
Ratchet remembered that battle, how Barricade had, as usual, attacked with a ferocity that might have been expected from a larger mech, but for any Autobot unaccustomed with Barricade's battle style, could give Barricade an advantage against that Autobot. There were few Autobots who had underestimated Barricade and survived to tell that tale, but nobody who had seen Barricade fight would ever underestimate him.
All of the Autobots involved in that particular battle knew how Barricade fought, and when Barricade had lunged at Cliffjumper, the small red scout who had also unwisely rushed ahead in his eagerness to battle, both Hound and Mirage had tried to distract Barricade by both firing on him.
Neither of the two could have told Ratchet which one of them it was that had caught him in the back of the neck with an energy pulse, a pulse that had entered his systems via the dataports, and caused a shutdown of his processor clusters. He had been fortunate that the pulse had only been at half-strength: had it been at full strength, it would have likely destroyed his Spark.
When Autobot reinforcements had turned up, the Decepticons had fled, leaving behind their fallen comrade. As Barricade's Spark had still
been alight, and relatively strong, Ratchet had, as a medic, felt duty-bound to insist on taking him back to try and save him.
Ratchet had a simple philosophy: Autobot, Decepticon or Neutral meant nothing to a medic: a Spark was a Spark, a life was a life, and he was sworn to try and preserve life if he was not having to defend himself or save another life at the time. To Ratchet, a patient was a patient, no matter what insignia, if any, the patient wore.
When Ratchet, upon bringing Barricade back, had run a deep scan, he had at first thought that it had been a futile exercise when he had detected what appeared to be a totally burned-out mater processor and no processor activity had at first been detectable. However, his direct interface with Barricade had indicated differently. Somehow, he had received two completely conflicting results, and while he had nothing to do but wait for Barricade to finish recharging, he decided to carry out a full diagnostic, for the only reason he could think of for the disparity was that one of his scanning mechanisms must have a glitch.
Ratchet entered voluntary shutdown, to make the process a bit faster.
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Several hours later and three separate types of diagnostic later, Ratchet was still puzzled: no glitches had been found. Barricade's recharge was almost over when Ironhide came down bearing four adjustable metal cuffs that would, he explained to Ratchet, confine Barricade.
"They are attached to his wrists and ankles. They will then magnetise, holding him down to your worktable." Ironhide explained. "As long as you have disabled his other weaponry, you should be able to be around him while he is awake without peril to yourself."
Ratchet blinked his optics disdainfully at Ironhide.
"His weapons, including his extendable shredding-arm, are offline. I'm not stupid." He stated.
When Barricade was sufficiently recharged, Ratchet had him moved to his worktable. He put the cuffs on Barricade's ankles and wrists, which Ironhide activated, and brought him back online, in the mechanical sense. Whether his processors would come online was dependant on whether those processors were actually functional, and whether the automatic reboot circuit that usually brought the processors back online in situations such as these was still functional or not.
Something was not right, Ratchet realised, for although the body was now fully online, the mind was not. It had to be a non-functional main processor or a damaged reboot circuit. The first situation would mean that no more could be done. However, if it was the second, a reboot could be carried out via interface-which would be the most precise method of finding out which of the two situations was the case.
Ratchet carefully turned Barricade's head to expose the dataports, and once again interfaced with the Decepticon.
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Prowl could feel and hear the interface. A name was being called.
'Barricade. Barricade. You are safe.' There was a pause, and then the mental voice 'spoke' again. 'Barricade, I know you are there. Come up, Barricade.' Then, there was another pause. Then the 'voice' called 'Barricade, Barricade, respond. Barricade, Barricade, Barricade!'
Prowl was getting annoyed, he recognised the distinctive touch of the Autobot medic, but wondered why he was calling someone else. At the next pause, Prowl responded, but not in the way that Ratchet was expecting.
"Stop calling me that! That is not my name! Is Ironhide there?" he thought. Prowl felt a start of surprise in the medic's mental touch, then Ratchet replied.
'Yes, Ironhide is here. Will you want to speak to him?'
'No, I want an assurance that I'm not going to be treated like an enemy by someone whom I have fought beside! I don't want to find myself looking down his cannon again!' said Prowl.
Once again, there was a surprised reaction to Prowl's response, stronger than the first. He felt Ratchet's consciousness retreat a bit, guessed he was talking to someone, and then the medic spoke again.
'Ironhide is now out of the med bay. You will not be threatened. It is just you and I now, Barricade. Will you come up? I can aid you in rebooting your processors.' Ratchet asked.
'Only if you stop calling me by a name that isnot mine!' retorted Prowl. 'I don't know who this person is that you seem to think I am, but my name is not Barricade!' There was a pause before Ratchet addressed him again.
'If I am to address you by a name you will accept, I must know what that name is.' Ratchet told him. Prowl was confused. Had Ratchet lost a few memory chips that he didn't recognise his face?
'Don't you remember me, Ratchet?' he asked. 'It's me, Ratchet, it's me, Prowl.'
There was a surge of mixed emotions - disbelief, confusion, and shock – and then the connection was suddenly terminated, leaving Prowl alone within his own head.
Ratchet had discontinued the interface.
