Blindly he reached out and felt Barricade's even presence, and he clung to it until the headache subsided enough for him to try again.
And hell, it still hurt. But this time Sam grit his teeth and suffered through the pain, suppressing a whimper.
::You're safe:: the even presence that was Barricade told him without him asking.
Safe. Good. Very good.
He was inside the Saleen, curled on the seat like a little kid… yeah, embarrassment big time.
"Where are they?" he rasped.
"Inside. Scrapper apologized for the overload."
"I left a real good impression," Sam whispered sarcastically. "Not his fault, though. Didn't expect it, really."
Barricade snorted. "Neither did they. You sent Mixmaster into a mild shock and had Hook cower from you. Whatever you did, you have their respect now."
Sam got himself into a sitting position. To his mild amusement he found there was a large bag of chocolates on the dash. He took it gratefully.
"This is bad," he said as he leaned back into the seat and munched on something filled with caramel. "They are so fractured, so badly torn, it's a miracle they're still functional on such a high level. What Shockwave did was cruel and probably never intended to last longer than it actually did. They were tools to be used and then discarded. They survived, but at a terrible price."
Barricade was silent, attentive, listening closely.
"I'm not sure what it is, but it feels like they're one mind and then again not. They hate becoming Devastator because it robs them of their individuality, but as individuals they're still aware of the others and part of the whole. They hate it, but they can't exist sanely without it. Probably why Bonecrusher was such a nutcase."
Barricade snorted. "He was a destructive berserker. A very simple-minded one."
Sam nodded, finishing a chocolate bar. "Now the rest of them are asking for sanctuary. They want Earth as their refuge."
The Saleen hummed thoughtfully.
"I believe them," Sam added.
"Of course you do."
He glared at the dash. "I'm not some simple-minded, trusting, weak human!" Sam snapped.
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it!"
"I will blame the headache and your exhaustion for your poor judgment, human. You believe them because you touched their minds, went through their memories, and essentially were them for the time you connected."
Sam blinked. "Uh…"
Barricade chuckled darkly. "You really are exhausted. Your organic brain is unable to process the simplest facts."
Like the fact that Sam had been so deeply inside Barricade's mind that he knew the former Decepticon inside out, too. He knew the darkest recesses of his mind.
With a sigh Sam scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah. Stupid me. Mush brain doesn't help."
"It helps in giving the Constructicons the break they need."
"Probably." Sam smiled.
Suddenly Barricade tensed. It was just a feeling Sam had of the mech coiling into a defensive mode, but as a technopath he sensed it. Scrapper had appeared and was waiting patiently at a distance, optics on the Saleen. Sam opened the door and got out, feeling a little wobbly. Barricade immediately transformed.
"You saw more than we probably remember on our own," the Constructicon leader said. "Was it enough to know that we don't mean any harm on this planet?"
Sam nodded.
"I would like to talk with the Prime," Scrapper went on.
"I could ask him."
"Please give your friends this." He held out a small data carrier between his thumb and forefinger.
"What is it?"
"A peace offering. It's not a weapon. A simple data disk."
Sam cocked his head, then took it carefully. It was what Scrapper had told him it would be, and he was curious. The Construction looked at Barricade.
"You know where to find us."
The other mech nodded, then transformed and let Sam climb inside.
As they left the near-ghost town the black and white Saleen was joined by a yellow Camaro and not much later by a silver Solstice. Sam didn't transfer physically into Bumblebee, but he readily accepted the safety and stability – and familiarity – of his partner's mind. Barricade didn't try to stop him in any way. He instead turned to Jazz for an exchange of information.
::Are you all right, Sam?:: Bumblebee asked.
He smiled. ::Tired, but yeah, I'm fine. I'm not sure I can say the same about the Constructicons, Bee. They're a fused personality matrix and whatever someone does, he would eventually kill them in an attempt to separate them back into complete, autonomous individuals::
Bumblebee shared his feeling of pain at the thought. All mechs could link to another some way or the other. It was how they exchanged information. But to be forever, cruelly and forcefully fused to five other minds… it was beyond his computing powers.
Sam regarded the data carrier. A token of good will, whatever it contained.
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Sam nodded off throughout the long drive back. Barricade gave him a little jolt as they entered the industrial area that had been chosen as a safe place to meet with the others. It was already late and not a soul in sight. He yawned and tried to wake.
"Do you need nourishment?" Barricade asked, voice inflectionless.
"No. Coffee, yeah, but I'm fine technopathically speaking."
He got out of the police cruiser and Barricade transformed, remaining behind him as Bumblebee joined his partner. Jazz was next to his own spark-bonded and looked at Optimus Prime.
"Nothing happened," Sam told them. "I'm okay. They asked me to give you this," He held up a small data carrier. Small for Cybertronians, but the size of a laptop in humans terms.
Ratchet took the data carrier carefully and inserted it into a reading device. His optics flared a little as he took in the content.
"What is it, Ratchet?" Prime asked.
"These are plans. Building plans. Construction plans."
"What for?" Ironhide wanted to know.
"A satellite station. Using the Ark as a base for it, these plans tell us how to convert the ship into a satellite defense station!"
Ratchet projected the plans as a holographic, two-dimensional image and everyone gazed at them in surprise.
"It's their offering," Sam told Optimus. "They don't want to build it; should you ask for their help they would assist, though."
"This is amazing," Ratchet murmured, scrolling through very detailed plans. "Really amazing."
"Could be a trap," Ironhide remarked.
"How?" Sam challenged. "Using the plans will make the Ark blow up? How could they work in such faults? You'd see them right away!"
"You're too innocent, kid," Ironhide told him. "You want to trust the wrong guys."
"I know them, Ironhide."
"You know them?" the mech echoed, sounding. "How can you know a Decepticon?"
"I'm a technopath," Sam snapped. "I've been in their minds! I saw the scars! I felt their pain! There's no hiding from me on that level!"
Bumblebee stepped forward. "It's true, Ironhide."
"You want to tell me that nothing can be hidden?"
Sam smiled humorlessly. "Want me to demonstrate? Want to join me for a training session? I can show you."
Ironhide rumbled something. "If I believe you saw right into their sparks…"
"Then you have to believe I do the same to Barricade when we train and that he lets me," Sam finished, voice hard.
Ironhide's expression said it all. Sam huffed and shook his head.
"I've been training for ten years and now you start wondering for the first time?"
"Your abilities are unique, Sam," Optimus interrupted their argument. "I trust in them. None of us can even imagine seeing and experiencing what you do when you touch our minds. I ask you, would you trust them with your life?"
Sam silently pondered the question. "I trust them not to hurt me, or anyone else, as long as we aren't trying to harm them. What they offer, they do out of their own free will – and it's been a long time since they had any."
"The programs Shockwave inserted are still there," Ratchet spoke up.
"Shattered," Sam explained. "It's like walking through broken glass. Tiny, tiny shards. Some are beyond recognition. Their own defenses destroyed what Shockwave tried to make them."
"What about Bonecrusher?" Optimus asked.
"I'm not sure. They don't know if he's dead and I can't give them the certainty either. What I see is a black wall. He could be there, a tiny flicker of his spark. He could be dead."
"Raising him from the ocean floor would involve the human military," Bumblebee said. "And I doubt there's anything left of him."
"If we gave them Bonecrusher they could form Devastator once more," Optimus added quietly.
"Prime, if you had seen what this forced combination does to them…" Sam stopped, shaking his head. "It's horrible. It's… turning six individuals into one mind… forcing them to think the same thoughts, feel the same emotions… they're scarred. Heavily scarred. Each time they had to submit, it was by force. The program tore them apart and merged them into something they were not. Devastator was slow and brutish because synchronizing six minds took up such computing power, there was no room for anything else."
Optimus went down on one knee and looked into the determined face. "You trust them not to harm anyone if we leave them be?"
The technopath nodded. "They want refuge. They want to heal – as much as that is possible for them to do."
"Then I'll talk to them in person."
"Optimus!" Ironhide started to protest.
The look Prime shot him shut the weapons specialist up. The Autobot leader transformed and opened one door.
"Now?" Sam asked, surprised.
"Now," came the deep voice from the truck.
He shrugged and got in. Bumblebee wasn't happy, nor did Barricade feel all that pleased, but he told both that it would be okay. He could get some rest later.
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Prime knew he was putting a lot of faith into the words of a young human -- who happened to be a technopath. It was the technopathy that made Optimus trust him. Sam was powerful, his abilities were not be underestimated, and a brief conversation in private with Barricade had only confirmed it. Sam wasn't just thinking that they could trust the Constructicons. He knew it. He had seen it in their minds. He was the only one who could, aside from maybe a very invasive scan done by Ratchet.
He wouldn't let anyone be submitted to that.
Sam was silent throughout the ride, eyes on the road, looking lost in thought.
Optimus suddenly pulled over. It was an abandoned rest stop, the pumps long demolished, the gasoline in the tanks removed. The cashier's building was only a skeleton now.
"Optimus?"
"You know I trust you, Samuel."
Sam frowned. "Yes?"
"And I trust in your abilities."
"Uh, yes?"
"My time on your world has taught me many lessons, but history makes it hard to believe that something as vicious as Shockwave's Modulator could be bested."
Sam's frown deepened. "But you said…"
"I know what I said and I stand by my word. I only ask you to show me
what you scanned."
The technopath gaped at him. "What?!" he finally exclaimed.
"I know you can do it. Barricade told me."
Sam's face was pale, his hands clenching into the seat. "I only did it once, in a training. It got out of control. The backlash for your guys is murderous."
"I am aware of that. Show me, Sam."
"Prime…"
"Their past is my past. Let me see what they saw," Optimus told the human.
He could read the distress Sam was under, could scan his elevated heart rate, his rising blood pressure, his spiking adrenaline. Sam didn't want to do this because it hurt and Optimus was proud that the technopath had these worries. Despite his training with a ruthless killer and shock-trooper, Sam was still very much human. And Barricade was more than his past designation told of him, too.
"Okay," the young man finally whispered. "Okay, I'll do it."
And for the first time, Optimus Prime truly experienced Sam Witwicky's powers.
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The truck pulled into an empty lot that was surrounded by ramshackle warehouses that would soon be torn down. Huge signs proclaimed that a new exclusive housing community would take their place. The Constructicons had switched meeting places yet again.
Sam got out of the truck and Optimus transformed, looking around. On the outside the Autobot leader looked the same, but in his mind terrifying images told him a story he had not expected. Part of him wondered how the young human could take all this. Maybe for the first time he truly understood what Sam was doing, what Barricade was training him to endure, what the former Decepticon himself was facing when he got caught by Sam's powers, and his respect rose even more.
"What will happen to them?" the technopath finally broke the silence.
"It depends on them," Prime answered.
"They were Decepticons."
It was a taunt and a challenge in one. Optimus smiled slightly.
"I don't judge them by their past because I know their history now. Back in the old days, Scrapper and the others were well-respected. Their works were art and beauty."
"They're not these mechs any more."
"I understand that. I think we need to make the best of the situation."
Sam knew the Constructicons were here. He could still feel them because of the deep scans he had performed. It would take a while to lose the echoes and his 'sense' of them. Right now he used that echo connection to reach out and look for Scrapper.
The mech in question stepped out of the warehouse across the lot, unarmed, making no sudden moves. Prime's surprise was easily felt for the technopath, and he knew where it came from. The Constructicons' condition.
"Thank you for coming, Optimus Prime," the Constructicon leader said.
"I came because I believe we need to talk in person," Prime replied.
Scrapper nodded.
"This is a rather unique situation for all of us," Optimus went on. "In more ways than one."
"We know. It's why we came out into the open. That and because our survival depends on it. You're the last surviving Prime." Scrapper's voice was solemn. "We will follow your commands."
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Two hours later Optimus Prime knew that whatever his decision concerning the five surviving Constructicons was, it was truly about their very existence. Sam had been a silent participant in the meeting, scanning, but not going deep. It was like a training exercise back at the base where he would sit quietly in a corner and just let his senses roam. He would encounter the different mech minds, brush over the almost primitive-in-comparison human technology, and challenge himself again and again. Here, in these environs, it had been far more dangerous, but not so different.
"What they want is a neutral status," Optimus told the Autobots who had logged onto his frequency to hear what had happened. "They don't see themselves as Autobots, but they never were Decepticons by choice."
And who knew how many had been forced under Megatron's command by Shockwave's device?
"You want to leave them to roam freely on Earth, Prime?" Ironhide exclaimed.
"No. It's not what they ask. They ask for resources, to be able to sustain themselves, repair what damage can be repaired."
"You can't trust Deceptiscum!"
"I trust them," Sam said softly. Despite his quiet words, everyone heard him. "You can't lie to me on the level I scanned them."
"Kid…"
"Ironhide, no. Prejudice aside, they aren't the only ones who defected from the Decepticons to your side, right?"
"You are correct. Jetfire was one of the most prominent to join our ranks. He was trusted. As was Fireflight."
Who had been killed by Starscream, Sam heard echo sadly in his mind. Jetfire's status was unknown.
"And they aren't who you believe them to be. The combiner mind hinders them. It's part of them, but it also connects six individuals and it's destroying them slowly. They tried to work on it themselves, but the stronger they got, the deeper the problems became. They're unbalanced because Bonecrusher is missing within their link," Sam made his case. "If you could see and feel what I did… it's terrible! With one or two awake throughout the centuries the connection was well-enough balanced. With all five now active they need outside help. It takes a terrible toll on them to interact with us this consciously, all of them simultaneously, and I'm not sure how long they can do it."
Prime listened to the exchange, smiling to himself at the force with which Sam was arguing the point.
"Sam allowed me to see what he scanned," he then told the others, surprising Ironhide. "These are no lies. They're victims of a terrible crime and the war that surrounded the deed. The Modulator tore at their very sparks, but they survived. They depend on each other, but need to be separate. One of them might already be dead, but the others deserve a chance. I will give them that chance."
"Is there anything we can do at all?" Ratchet entered the conversation, clearly addressing Sam.
The technopath was silent for a second, then sighed. "I'm not sure. It's not a physical wound. You'd have to give them the ability to shield and connect on purpose. You'd have to deactivate the combiner ability but leave their minds interconnected."
"Without Bonecrusher there is no combiner," Jazz spoke up. "And Banachek sent a submarine down there to check on his status. Personally, I think he's off-line. Permanently."
Sam didn't say anything because he couldn't be sure either.
"We will need a safe location," Prime said. "Scrapper and the others would willingly go into stasis lock should we decide to try and help them."
"And if we can't?"
"We'll have their consent to whatever we want to do."
Because the pain was too great otherwise. Sam gazed out onto the road. It was such a sad and terrible existence.
"I hope we can help. At least ease it all. They're still themselves. They have fragmented memories of the Cybertron they helped build."
Optimus hummed a little. "Their abilities would be appreciated, but it's a matter of how far we can help them contain themselves. I won't risk their sparks by keeping them all on-line."
Sam nodded.
"I don't like having only one solution to this 'problem'," Ratchet said firmly. "Putting them into permanent stasis lock isn't acceptable."
"We'll do what we can," Optimus told him. "And we'll see what happens."
tbc...
